Attempting Happily Ever After
by castiel-the-pizza-man
Summary: A witch curses Dean and turns him into a desire filled homosexual. Of course the first person Dean looks at would be Castiel, an angel of the Lord. But even after the curse wears off, Dean cannot get Castiel off his mind. So he has two options: try to ignore it, or attempt to get his own happily ever after.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Attempting Happily-Ever-After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PGish.  
**Warning:** Some mentions of sexual content.

**A/N:** So this is the first chapter of a multiple chapter essay. I've been writing a rather dark Supernatural story and I figured I should try my hand at writing a happy one. Unfortunately, I am very unhappy with this chapter and hope my writing of happy things improves on the way. I'm also trying out a different writing style since my friend told me I was a detail whore... I'm so sorry, I just love details. So I tried, and now I feel like the chapter is short and incomplete.

I'll post a chapter each Wednesday... or as close to Wednesday as I can get.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to review and tell me what you think.

Chapter One

'_This is it.'_ Dean groaned, pushing himself off the factory floor with his hands. They stung from the burn he had gotten when trying to stop his fall, and then another flash of stinging pain came when they came in contact with the dirt and grime of the floor, but that was the least of Dean's problems at the moment. Pain could wait, but right now it was a life or death situation. A heavy thud hit the wall to his left and Dean could only assume that was Sam being thrown, since the noise that was made from the body was a low, masculine groan. Well, he did have to give her props, not many people could lift Sam off the floor, much less throw him hard enough against a wall to make it hurt.

Just minutes previously, Sam and Dean had walked into what seemed to be a trap. Coming face to face with the witch they had spent a week tracking. The factory had looked empty enough and the brothers were sure that their lead had come to a dead end. But once they entered the main floor, the woman was standing there. Her messy black hair covering most of her pale face, her white dress torn and dirty. And before either one of them could react, she was on them, her face wanting their blood to spill onto the floor, her hands trying to dig through their chests to hold their hearts. The fact that they were still beating, and contained safely in their chests angered the witch.

Silence surrounded them, only the sound of their heavy breathing could be heard, and Dean glanced over at Sam, seeing a trail of blood leaking down his face from a wound above his hairline. But the younger Winchester was alert, his eyes scanning the room from his collapsed position, half of his back leaning against the wall. Dean's eyes left his brother and scanned the room. There was no sign of her, but of course she had disappeared before and come back with a vengeance, her desire to rip out their hearts and use them as sacrifice had increased.

A scream penetrated the silence, a signal that she was ready to attack them again. Dean, desperate, closed his eyes and mumbled out a half-assed prayer. "Cas. Feathery ass. Down here. Now."

Simple. Short. And to the point. Dean had never gotten the hang of the eloquent and pleasant praying. It took too much time and seemed so supercilious. Especially when the angel would come no matter how Dean called for him.

Dean opened his eyes and his hand tightened on the handle of his knife before he turned, staggering upright, his knees still weak from the blow that the witch had landed on his stomach. Whirling around, Dean was not expecting to come face to face with the exact thing they were hunting.

"Dean!" Sam shouted out, trying to struggle to his feet as well. He was worse for the wear, the blood gushing down the side of his face and his disoriented face showing that something was off.

Eyes wide, Dean brought the knife up to protect him, but the witch just watched him quietly before she raised her palm and placed it to his forehead. Before Dean could react he felt his body crackle with electricity, each nerve on edge, and his temperature rising, creating the oddest sensation in his body. A small groan of confusion left the man's lips and he tried to slice at the witch in front of him. But she just stepped back taking lowering her hand to the side of her body. The witch's face, which had been so calm and curious just seconds before, changed back to twisted rage with a blood thirsty-grin. She raised her hand again, her long nails glistening in the soft light of the sun shining through the windows, preparing to rip right through the skin on Dean's chest.

But the hand never fell. Instead a gurgling noise welled up from between the witch's lips, and her face turned to one of surprise and then fear before her eyes went dark and she slumped towards the ground.

Castiel let the witch fall, watching her body hit the ground and lie still, blood welling and pooling underneath her from the knife that was buried in her back. The angel looked down at his hand, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on his fingertips. With almost a curious look on his face, he turned his hand over a few times, inspecting the red substance that was considered humans life force. But within seconds, Castiel had used his grace to scrub his fingers clean and he reached down, grabbing the angel knife out of the witch's back and returning it to its proper place inside his trench coat. Finally, the angel glanced at the two men in the room with him. Sam seemed slightly disoriented, but Dean just stared at him with his big green eyes, and for some reason, it seemed as if Dean's eyes seemed to carry desire, and that caused Castiel to feel slight discomfort.

Deciding that his greeting had been forgone long enough, Castiel began to speak, his low voice rumbling around the factory in a quiet echo. "Sam, Dean, hello." Stepping over the witch, Castiel strode across the factory floor, his trench coat flaring out behind him as we went to stand in front of Sam.

"Hey, Cas." Sam chuckled weakly. Castiel reached up and placed two fingers on Sam's forehead, feeling his grace flow from his fingertips and heal the damage the witch had done to the younger Winchester. A slight emptiness accompanied the leaving of some of his grace, but once it's work was done it would return to Castiel along with some of the residing pain from Sam's wounds. But by now, Castiel had healed the boys so many times that he was used to it, he would take their pain any day as long as it meant they were safe. Sam's eyes brightened and he blinked twice, almost as if remembering what had happened and where he was. A small smile pulled up the left corner of the angel's lips. This. This reminded him that the boys still needed him, that he was still useful to them. That he was still their friend.

Friends. It seemed like a foreign word to Castiel. But it was what the Winchesters called him, and it was what he called them in return. But in meeting these two men, many foreign things had been happening to Castiel, and he could honestly say, he enjoyed every second of it.

Sam and Castiel then turned to glance at Dean who seemed to be frozen in place. Seeing Castiel kill that witch and then stand over her dead body. Well, Dean thought that was the most manly and most handsome thing he had ever seen. Dean was fighting the urge to run over to the angel, wrap his arm around his waist and press him into a vehement kiss. He knew it was wrong, to kiss a friend like that, especially a male friend. But something in his mind was still pushing him.

Instead of focusing on Castiel, Dean let his eyes rest on the witch, noticing how pretty she was, especially now that she was not half-mad and wanting to spill the brothers blood. Closing his eyes, Dean's head tilted to the floor, trying to get his bearings. Her face looked like she was in a deep sleep, the worry and hatred erased, turning her into a peaceful and beautiful woman. Her dress was not revealing, but it was form fitting enough, and it rode up her right thigh. The witch's hair was still a mess, but it splayed over her left hand which rested inches from her face. She was a woman that Dean would go for. but at the moment, she just looked like a person. Her face would be unrecognizable to him in a crowd. It confused the man that he couldn't find her attractive and a woman that he would gladly sleep with... if she was alive and not a crazy witch.

Her body was lovely, with curves and rather full breast. But it was not strong, Dean knew he could not grab on tight with out fear of hurting her, and the mammary tissue seemed pointless at the moment. Suddenly, the image of carving in the angel banishing sigil onto Castiel's chest plagued Dean. That was lovely, Castiel's body, firm and strong beneath his hands, a small shudder passing over the angels skin as the box cutter slid through his pale flesh. Although her face was lovely, those were not the bright blue eyes of Castiel, there was no stubble, no short and messed up hair. That was not his angel.

A small groan passed between Dean's lips. He was doing it again. Thinking of Castiel in a romantic and sexual way. It had never happened before, and this was not the first time Dean had been in Castiel's debt. His body felt warm and Dean figured he must have hit his head when he fell. There could be no other explinations for why he was suddenly having such strong feelings for the angel.

"Dean?" The low voice rumbled, and it felt like it was vibrated through Dean's body, causing odd sensations. Opening his eyes, Dean glanced up quickly seeing Castiel take a few hesitant steps towards him, standing a few feet from the hunter in order to maintain the personal space that Dean liked. But even though Dean had drilled it into the angels head that standing too close to him was uncomfortable and not something he liked, Dean couldn't care less. Without thinking, the hunter's hands grabbed the tan lapels on the trench coat and pulled himself up against Castiel, knowing that he would never be able to move the angel with his strength. Slight surprise was shown in Castiel's bright blue eyes on an otherwise stoic face, and two fingers raised to Dean's forehead, stopping the man in his tracks. "What are you doing?"

Dean was unable to answer the angel, his eyes focused on the lips that repeated the words that he had just said. Sam was in his brother's peripheral vision, but he just stood still, his eyes darting from one to the other. Attempting to lean closer to Castiel, Dean realized that the strong fingers on his forehead hindered the progress.

The surprise had left the angel eyes, instead replace with confusion. "Something's wrong, Dean."

"Damn right something's wrong." Dean replied, straining forward. His body felt like it had not had sex in years, hormones pumping at being so close to Castiel this way. All Dean wanted was Castiel, and he was frustrated that the angel was blocking his attempts.

Sam finally spoke up, stepping forward. "The witch touched him. You don't think she put a curse on Dean, do you, Cas?"

Those words seemed to break through to Dean and he stopped struggling against Castiel's fingers. Realization dawning on him. "That witch cursed me." He found it difficult to step away from Castiel, but he did, staring at his fingers and willing them to unclench Castiel's lapels. But once he did, he took another step back. Away from the angel that Dean found intoxicating. His body gave an involuntary shudder at being denied what it wanted. "She turned me into a sex-deprived homosexual!"

Castiel just tilted his head and looked confused at the two men while Sam burst into laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Attempting Happily-Ever-After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, M.  
**Warning:** Explicit sexual content and language.

**A/N:** First off, **let me warn you. I use proper anatomy terms**. I know it makes some people uncomfortable and I apologize. I think I can only uses proper anatomy terms due to the fact that I work in the nursing field. So you have been warned!

And now that's over, enjoy this chapter! Due to a recently acquired social life (a.k.a. I just finished all my summer courses tonight) I felt like celebrating. That, and I'm slightly busy until late tomorrow night.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. Next chapter will be up Wednesday! I'm having a lot of fun writing it so any reviews, comment, questions, concerns, tell me what I'm doing, wrong, right, or something in between.

Chapter Two

"Shut up, Sammy, this isn't funny." Dean growled from the back seat, sitting as far away from the angel as he could. Sam was driving them back to the motel deciding that Dean obviously needed to stay in that night. Castiel sat in the passenger's seat, his blue eyes gazing out the window at the passing scenery, almost as if he was tuning the brothers out.

But even though Dean protested Sam could not stop laughing. "Dude, you've been turned gay and you latch on to a genderless angel occupying a man's body." Sam chuckled as he turned the directional on, turning off the small road and onto a main one. "You like Castiel."

"It'll wear off." Dean commented back, slightly distracted by how the sun was sending bright flecks off Castiel's dark hair. Without thinking, Dean leaned forward and ran his hand down the side of Castiel's face feeling the stubble rasp against his fingers.

Castiel turned his eyes off of the scenery and turned to look at Dean with his impassive eyes. Sam glanced over, seeing where Dean's hand was and joked in a serious tone, "Hands to yourself."

Embarrassed, Dean pulled his hand away from Castiel's face and let them drop into his lap pushing down the erection that was beginning to form because he had touched the angel. A small annoyed sigh escaped Dean's lips as he turned away from his brother and the angel to stared out the window. The trees went by at a blur, the setting sun shining through the leaves and casting shadows in the car.

But even trying to distract himself, Dean could feel the tug of desire towards the angel. The person who had become something like a brother to him in just a few short years. He knew he cared deeply for Castiel, but it was odd having that feeling for the angel coming out in a romantic way. Yes, the angel had chosen a rather handsome male vessel, no one could deny that. And Dean and Castiel had a history together, they had a past, a bloody, messy history. Though it may be different than many other peoples, they had a connection. Castiel had even raised Dean from Hell. And at the moment, Dean thought that was one of the sexiest things anyone could have ever done for him.

Shaking his head, Dean tried to control this thoughts, move them away from the angel that was close in his proximity. But no matter what he tried his thoughts always drifted back to him. It was making Dean realize how big a part of his life Castiel was.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, his deep voice filling the car. "Are you alright?"

Dean gladly pulled his eyes away from the window seeing the angel looking back at him, his deep, blue eyes searching Dean's face. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

Castiel nodded, looking perplexed. "Dean. I know that we have had our rough spots in the past, especially in my dealing with Zachariah, but have you not liked me previously to this curse?"

Dean sighed as Sam stifled a laugh, it would make sense that the angel would not understand. "No. Like as romantically, and gay as in homosexual"

"Oh. So you are not happy?" Castiel asked. The confusion leaving his face now that Dean had explained it to him, returning to it's stoic demeanor.

"God." Dean said, not caring if he insulted Castiel with his blasphemy. Castiel's eyes were causing Dean's body to react in certain ways, and in this situation, the reaction was just uncomfortable. Dean pressed down harder on his erection. Wishing to hide the evidence and for it to go away. But the pressure caused some pleasure and Dean bit his lip to stop a small moan. This, of course, did not seem to go unnoticed by Castiel who just tilted his head at the hunter. "I'm a little too happy, Cas. Now please, go stare out the window."

Sam could not hold it in anymore, letting his mirth bubble past his lips. That caused him receive a blank stare from Castiel, who then obeyed Dean's request and returned to looking out the window. Dean fumbled with his words slightly, wanting to say something to make sure he had not insulted the angel, but he knew he couldn't deal with talking to Castiel at the moment.

Instead, the hunter decided to focus on other things, such as the woman he slept with a few nights ago. He had picked her up at the bar and they had quick and hasty sex in the back of her car. It was really all Dean needed to get his fix, and once they were done they each went on their own separate ways. Simple, easy, unattached, fulfilling. With Castiel, it would be the exact opposite of that. But the more Dean focused on the woman, the more and more he found his erection leaving and himself becoming flaccid.

Panic had set in and Dean opened his eyes in a huff, only to see Castiel watching him silently, an un-readable emotion in his eyes. If Dean could guess he would almost think it was sorrow or unhappiness perhaps even regret. Though, at the moment, Dean was in no condition to be reading emotions since the only one he wanted to see on the angels face is lust. Lust placed there by himself. But once Dean's green eyes had met Castiel's blue ones, the angel was back to looking out of the window.

Dean willed Sam to drive faster, just wanting to lock himself up alone until this curse wore off and Dean could return to the booze-drinking, ladies man that he always was. Un-attached, non-emotional relationships. Unlike the one he would have with Castiel if the curse forced him to pursue it. Dean's body may want Castiel, but Dean knew he couldn't just use the angel for his own pleasure. That would be too harsh to do to his friend. Castiel would need a emotional connection too. And at the moment, that was just way over Dean's head.

Houses began to pass by on the side, large yards in the front, some with white picket fences surrounding their exterior. At this sight, the cursed hunter let out a soft sight. They were getting close to the motel room. Close to a safe haven for Dean and his uncontrolled emotions. And almost as if Dean's wish had come true, Sam was parking the Impala in front of the motel room they had gotten two days previous.

A loud squeak came out from the door as Dean pushed it open, almost tripping on his way out of the car, and headed towards the door of their motel room. He fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door open when he felt Castiel appeared next to him.

"Dean?" Castiel questioned again.

But before he could say anything Dean growled, his voice filled with bridled desire, "Not now, Cas." The key finally fit into the lock and Dean pushed the door open, heading in over the threshold into the dark room.

Sam walked in behind Dean, turning on the lights as Castiel followed Sam, stopping in the corner of the room and watching Dean's actions with careful eyes. Since they had been so pre-occupied with tracking the witch, they hadn't unpacked, their duffel bags rested at the foot of their beds, clothes pouring out of them as the Winchesters just grabbed what they needed out of them. The beds had been slept on, but over the comforter with only their coats and clothes to keep them warm.

Castiel was able to take this all in as Dean walked into the bathroom, turning on the light and shutting the door behind him. The lock slid easily in place, and Dean rested his head against the closed door, his breathing heavy as he tried to ignore the reactions of what his body did when Castiel had appeared inches from him. When this was all over, Dean knew he was going to have to remind Castiel about personal space.

Fervent whispering could be heard through the door and Dean pressed his ear against the crack, catching the end of Sam muttering, "... now's not a good time, Cas."

"I understand. I'll take my leave." Castiel replied, his voice coming clear through the door due to his low tone.

"We... I... could always use your help, though." Sam replied, and Dean could hear the chair from the table being pulled out, probably Sam sitting down in front of his laptop.

"So you want me to stay?"

"Of course I do."

"But Dean...?"

Sam chuckled, still finding the whole situation funny. "He'll straighten out soon enough." There was silence between them and Dean could almost imagine Castiel standing in the room, his eyes surveying Sam, trying to see if he was telling the truth. "Honest, Cas. Sit down and we'll search for a new case. Unless you're too busy."

Another chair scraped along the floor and Dean was imagining the trench coat flutter as Castiel sat down in the seat. "No, I am not." Castiel replied and Dean pushed himself off the door, not wanting to listen anymore.

Instead, Dean turned on the shower, adjusting the knobs to what he guessed would be an appropriate temperature, and threw his jacket off, letting it land in the corner. Then he pulled off his shirt and slid his boxers and jeans off his hips, kicking off his shoes and socks on the way. The shower water was warm, but the pressure was rather weak. '_Better than nothing.' _Dean thought, letting the warm water run over his body, loosening the kinks in his muscles. His stomach was sore from where he had gotten punched by the witch. Even though she was small, she packed a powerful punch. Looking down at his toned body, Dean could see the black bruise spreading over his lower abdomen, changing colors due to the muscles if resided on.

Dean stayed in the shower for what felt like hours, letting the hot water run over his body. He was surprised Sam wasn't banging on the door, yelling about sharing the hot water. Dean let the water hit his head and run down his back and off his face and shoulders, his palms pressed flat against the plastic wall, holding him up.

As long as he did not think about Castiel, he would be fine. Just had to ignore the bastard until the curse was over. His blue eyes and deep voice. The way he had grabbed Dean and shoved him agains the wall before beating Dean up for running away and attempting to find Michael. They had been so close, face only inches apart. Granted, he had been in intense pain, Castiel's fist colliding with his face like a concrete block. Castiel closing his eyes, and letting out a small frustrated sigh that seemed almost too human. As if the thought of smiting Dean where he stood for being so ignorant was passing through his mind and he could barely contain completing the act. Castiel tilting his head, noticing that Dean did not think he deserved to be saved, blue eyes searching his face in confusion. Castiel's skin healing, but the blood on his face remaining, as he looked up at Dean after saving the human again. Memories flashed behind his closed eyes lids in rapid progression. Forcing his eyes open, Dean found himself staring at his hands on the wall before he pushed himself up straight. Something was different with him and Dean glanced down his wet and naked body, noticing his erection that had formed when he was thinking about the angel.

"Fuck." Dean swore, impatience and embarrassment flooding his body as he reached down and pressed his penis down, hoping it would go away.

But instead, his body had become sensitive and Dean raised his hand to stifle a moan of pleasure that threaten to escape his lips at the pressure. As Dean pulled his hand away, his penis returned to its erect position and Dean just sighed, resting a hand on the wall as his other hand idly stroked the shaft, his fingers feeling the taunt skin.

Dean closed his eyes again, seeing Castiel's face appear in his mind, looking powerful, the shadow of his wings on the barn wall. Dean's hand paused before it encircled his penis and began to stroke slowly. Castiel chugging a beer with fear easily noticed on his face. Staring dumb-founded up at the girl who had approached them. Dean's strokes increased, moving faster and faster, a small moan leaving his lips. The angel staring at him with his blue eyes as he asked for the hunter's necklace, a pleading look hidden in his eyes. Dean was panting by now, his body shaking with the intense pleasure. It needed this release after the whole afternoon of desiring his best friend. Castiel watching him as Anna kissed him on the lips, his face unreadable, lacking emotion. Dean flicked his hand as he reached the end of his penis letting it rub over the head as his speed increased, small gasps escaped his lips at that, and he knew he was not going to last long.

The next image, Dean knew his mind had made up, but a throaty moan came out of him from it none the less. Castiel underneath him, sweat glistening on his forehead as his back arched, a small gasp escaping his lips from the enjoyment.

"Castiel." Dean shuddered, feeling his body shake as he ejaculated, his penis twitching at the release. The orgasm raked through his body, his muscles seizing as he thrust forward into the air. As the last few spurts ended, Dean sighed, a feeling of bliss and relaxation coming over his body as he slumped against the wall, watching his penis twitch as the last few drops of semen left his body.

After a few seconds Dean realized what he had done and he pushed himself off the wall. If there was anything that could put a damper on a friendship and make it awkward, that would be it. Thankfully, only one person involved knew what had happened, and Dean planned on keeping it that way. And once this curse wore off, hopefully everything would be back to normal.

* * *

**And thank you, leyu02o wait leviathan02 too and animegirl03 for your reviews.**

**For that, you get a prize of... your very own anti-possession necklace! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Attempting Happily-Ever-After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG-13ish.  
**Warning:** Sexual content and language.

**A/N: **I'm sorry for posting this a day late, I meant to get it up yesterday, but I celebrated passing my skills exams for nursing by going to bed early. I know that I'm a boring person, but what can I do =] Next post will be up Wednesday.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Feel free to tell me what I'm doing good, bad, mediocre, or whatever. Thank you and enjoy!

Chapter Three

After half an hour of lounging in the shower and masturbating to the thought of Castiel, Dean shut the water off, carefully stepping out of the shower and onto the rug so he would not slip and fall. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Dean walked towards the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, flicking off the excess water. Realizing his clothes had been left in the main room he banged on the bathroom door with the palm of his hand.

"Sammy?" Dean called out, listening for a response. When none came, Dean continued anyways. "Sammy, I left my bag in the room and I need some clothes." Dean listened, trying to hear through the door.

When there was nothing to be heard, Dean sighed, turning to glance at the dirty pile of clothes in the bathroom. He could wear those again, or he could go out in the room and grab his bag. A grimace passed across Dean's face at the thought of going into the room, especially in a towel with the chance that Castiel might be there.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean jumped, adrenaline beginning to pump through his body as he turned, seeing Castiel standing near the shower. In his arms was Dean's duffel bag and he held it out to the hunter, an uncomfortable look on his face. Dean could place it back to when he had brought the angel to the brothel.

"You asked for this." Castiel added, stretching his arms towards Dean, holding the duffel bag.

Dean took an instinctive step towards the sink, trying to keep his eyes on the bag instead of Castiel. He could already feel his body begin to warm from the hormones pumping through him. Catiel was in the same room as him while he was naked underneath a towel. Closing his eyes, the hunter took a calming breath, trying to reorient his body and mind before he opened his eyes and took a step forward, taking the bag from Castiel. "Yeah. Thanks, Cas. Where's Sam?"

When the bag had left the angel's possession his arms dropped down and his eyes drifted away from Dean's face, focusing on something just to the left of Dean. "He has left."

Dean clutched the duffel to his chest as he tilted to the left, trying to recapture Castiel's gaze, but the angel seemed determined not to look directly at him. "How come?" Dean was surprised that Sam had not told Dean that he was leaving the motel.

"He grew uncomfortable when you moaned my name in a sexual manor. Therefore, he claimed he needed to leave and that he would return with subsistence. I assume he was going to the diner just down the street." Castiel answered, his eyes finally moving away from the wall he was focusing on to look into Dean's bright green eyes.

Dean's eyes widened and he could swear he could cut the sexual tension with a knife. "Oh. So you guys heard...?" Castiel stayed silent, just watching the blush rise up on Dean's cheeks before he shrugged and dropped the duffel bag onto the ground. "No big deal."

Castiel contemplated what Dean had said for a few seconds before he nodded. Dean knelt down next to the bag, searching for clean clothes to change into and when he looked up again the angel was gone. He let out a slow sigh of relief, feeling the confusion and tension leaving the room as well. Even though Dean had relieved his sexual needs, the fact that seeing Castiel there and still becoming sexual stimulated proved to him that the curse had not ended yet.

The hunter pulled out a pair of boxers, jeans, and a t-shirt, letting the towel drop to the floor before he slid the clothes against his damp skin, adjusting them until they fit right against his body. All the while, Dean couldn't help but think about Castiel's troubled face. It was disconcerting, but Dean tried to push it to the back of his mind and focus on his tasks. But a wave of embarrassment came over him as he realized that Sam knew he had masturbated to the thought of Castiel, and the angel probably knew too, if he had learned enough about human anatomy and pleasure. Hell, the guy probably watched people fornicating and masturbating from the clouds of heaven. Sighing, Dean sat on the edge of the shower, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched the door of the bathroom. His original plan was not as good as he thought, especially since Castiel could just appear of the other side of the door.

The position was comfortable for Dean and he stayed there, listening to the silence around him. If Castiel was in the other room, he must not be moving.

Time passed and Dean was able to focus on nothing, letting his mind be blanks as his body stayed still.

Suddenly the noise of a door could be heard signaling that Sam had returned from his expedition.

"Hey." The younger brother said, almost breathlessly, to Castiel, who in turn, replied with silence. "I got some dinner. How is Dean doing?"

The low rumble of Castiel's voice seemed to vibrate everything within Dean. "Quiet."

"Oh. Did you check on him?" Sam asked as the noise of a paper bag being set down on a hard surface reached Dean's ears.

"I gave him his duffel bag after he finished his shower. He asked for it and you had left."

"Did he...?" Sam did not seem to finish the question and there was a few seconds of silence that went by and Dean could imagine the angel tilting his head at Sam in confusion, attempting to figure out what Sam was asking.

"He did not make any sexual advances towards me, if that is what you are implying."

A soft sigh came from the human. "Good, maybe the curse is wearing off."

"I highly doubt it. While I was in the room with him, his heart rate and respiratory rate had increased greatly and his pupils were dilated."

It seemed Sam did not know what to say in reply to Castiel's observations so he busied himself with the paper bag.

Was it that obvious what Castiel was doing to Dean that the angel could read his body's reactions? That thought caused Dean to press a palm to his forehead and groan quietly in anguish.

The sound of the paper bag crinkling stopped and Sam finally spoke up. "I got you a burger as well, just incase."

"I do not require-"

"Yeah, yeah." Sam interrupted, before he called out in a louder voice. "Hey Dean, want some food."

Dean smiled, finally feeling some relief go through his body. "Fuck yeah. I'm starving." And he really was, just noticing the gnawing pain in his lower abdomen telling him that he had not eaten anything since the crappy diner coffee and doughnut that morning.

"Good." Sam called, his voice sounding closer to the door. "Open the door."

Dean contemplated opening the door. There was the off chance that he would see Castiel and something might happen to cause him to pursue the angel out of the comfort of the bathroom. But then the other option was for Castiel to appear in the bathroom. Close in proximity. Dean shook his head, that seemed like the worst option. An image flashed across him mind of Castiel appearing and Dean pushing the angel against the bathroom door. That thought began to arouse Dean and he cursed silently under his breath as he awkwardly shifted his position on the edge of the tub. He could just go without the food, but the loud rumble from his stomach had decided that was not an option as well.

"Alright, alright." Dean called back, standing up and glancing down, making sure his pants would not give the erection he was slowly forming away. Once he made sure he was all set Dean unlocked the door and turned the handle, feeling the tension radiating from Sam, and opened the door, gazing into the room from the bathroom. Sam was leaning against the doorframe waiting expectantly while Castiel stood near the small table in the corner of the room. The aroma from the food made his stomach growl with anticipation and Dean grabbed the white paper bag from Sam's hand when the younger brother offered it to him. Dean unfurled the top of the bag and glanced in, seeing the silver wrapping of paper around a burger and fries. He enjoyed the sight of the greasy food before a small frown passed over his lips. "What no drink, Sammy?"

His brother's eyes widened in surprise at forgetting to bring the drink to the doorway. "Yeah, sorry, it's on the table." Sam muttered as his eyes located the large soda, condensation beading on the plastic cup as it was subjected to the warmth of the motel room.

Sam pushed himself off the wall and turned heading over to the table. Without thinking, Dean placed the bag of food down on the sink counter and followed Sam into the room meeting him at the table. Sam turned around, seeing that Dean had followed him and stopped, his eyes darting over to the angel standing near them. If Castiel was unnerved about Dean's presence he did not show it at all. Instead, his eyes glanced over the brothers before they returned to staring at the wall. But Castiel's lips parted and he ran his tongue over his pink lips before he closed his mouth again.

And just like that, with that one small action, Dean's mind filled with nothing but wanting to feel the angel's lips with his own tongue. His erection was already straining against the front of his pants as he moved towards Castiel. Dean's hand came in contact with Castiel's chest, spreading his fingers across the white dress shirt. He knew he must have caught the angel off guard since Castiel's body slammed into the motel wall with the force behind Dean's push. The mortal's mind was making little sense for happiness washed over him, knowing Castiel could not escape unless he transported himself somewhere else.

"Castiel." Dean moaned in the same voice he had used in the shower when he had been pleasuring himself. Leaning in, Dean took in the angel's scent, smelling the scent of nature that always seemed to reside on his skin.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed, fear tinging his voice. But for now, Dean was going to ignore his brother, already lost in his arousal.

Their lips were a mere inches apart, and the angel's blue eyes were staring into Deans, still devoid of emotion. A small growl passed between Dean's lips, the desire to place emotion on the soldier's face over whelming him. Thinking of what he could do to Castiel caused a shiver to run down Dean's spine and he instinctively bucked his hips, colliding into Castiel's, and causing friction against his erection. A low, lustful moan escaped Dean's lips and he watched as a range of emotion clashed in Castiel's eyes.

"Fuck, yes." Dean murmured at the emotions, shamed at how much delight he was getting. Dean ground his hips against Castiel. Narrowing down the angels emotion to fear, shame, arousal, and something that looked slightly like regret.

Sam was shouting at his older brother, but the words pouring from his mouth seemed to go unnoticed.

Dean wanted more and his hands moved from Castiel's chest and began to slide down his front. Instead of doing anything, Castiel just titled his head in confusion. That was until Dean's hand rested on his belt and nimble fingers began undoing the buckle.

That was when panic flashed through the angel's eyes and Casitel raised his hands and pushed Dean, hard. Th hunter flew across the room and landed in a crumpled heap against the opposite wall.

"Jesus fuck, Cas!" Dean swore, feeling the pain blooming at the back of his skull. Although that did not stop him from rubbing his palm against the bulge in his pants.

Castiel just stood there eyes wide as he realized what he had done, his cerulean eyes passed over Sam who was staring at the angel with an open mouth before he glanced to the open door of the bathroom. Then, the two men watched as the angel disappeared, reappearing right in front of Dean. The older brother barely had time to focus on the angel before he felt Castiel's strong hand grab his shoulder and an intense wind was felt rushing around him and the cold tile floor of the bathroom underneath his body. The door to the bathroom slammed shut and the lock knob turned, a click ensuring that no one could get in (unless they happened to be able to transport themselves).

Dean sat there, his back propped up against the wall and his legs sprawled out across the bathroom floor mat, as if Castiel has carefully planned where the Winchester was going to land. His head still thrummed in an uncomfortable pain and he was embarrassed at what had happened. How had he let himself get so out of control. Hell, he had almost kissed the angel, and Castiel had seemed like he would not have minded. Of course, Dean knew he had to go and see how far he could push the angel, especially with Castiel's sexual inhibitions. Castiel had reacted in the only way he knew how to, and Dean understood that and figured he couldn't be mad at him. Especially since Castiel's show of force and strength was extremely attractive to Dean in this cursed state he was in.

Standing proved to be slightly difficult with his disorientation. By using the side of the shower, Dean managed to pull himself up successfully and he headed towards the bag of food that he had left, his stomach making a slight growl in pleasure at the thought of being feed soon. Leaning up against the door, Dean grabbed some french fries and stuffed them into his mouth, chewing quietly as he listened for the voices in the other room.

"I should go." Castiel's deep voice rumbled, slight panic making its way through his usually emotionless tone.

"Cas, how many time do I have to tell you, it's okay. Hell, even Dean would say it was okay if he was right in his mind." Sam replied, exasperation seeking through as he sighed loudly. Dean assumed that he had reassured Castiel multiple times when Dean was sitting on the bathroom floor.

There was a pause and Dean figured that Sam had convinced Castiel. "I hurt him though."

A small chuckle from Sam quietly floated through the door was was separating them. "He's been hurt enough. We all have." Silence spread through the room and Dean shoved some more fries into his mouth, chomping down on them in a greedy fashion, assuming the discussion was over. But something must have ticked Sam off because he began to speak again. "Listen, Cas, Dean and I understand. You've got the social mentality of a ten year old. Of course, if someone comes on to you that strong you're going to be scared and push them away. In your case, you happen to have Superman strength and push them across the room. Anyone, male or female, you would do that."

A small, annoyed huff passed through Castiel's lips and Dean could almost sense the angel glaring at his brother and Dean prayed for Sam's life. "I am not socially impaired. Nor am I preferred to one gender. I am a genderless being, therefore I don't have sexual preferences." Dean could practically feel the annoyance in the angel's voice.

"Or maybe you just haven't been around enough you decide what you like yet." Sam asked, the smile on his face clearly heard in his voice. Dean groaned, Sam just did not know when to shut it. He had told his younger brother about the trip to the brothel with Castiel, inducing a laugh that had Sam clutching his stomach, wheezing for air.

There was silence and Dean pressed his ear against the door, ready to leap out if his brother was in too much trouble. Dean may have an intense desire to carnally pleasure himself with Castiel's body, but that didn't mean he could not save Sam and then pin Castiel down onto the bed.

"Perhaps. Your statement is a logical one." Dean sighed as he heard that. Dean realized that Castiel's comment was not threatening and he slouched against the door once more, reaching into the bag for some more fries.

"Do you ever want to?" Dean stopped breathing, his heart pounding in his chest as Sam threw out this question, non-nonchalant, as typing on the laptop resumed.

Silence filled the room again except for the incessant clacking of the laptop's keys. Then Castiel's deep voice cut through the air. "I have no time for such vexatious activities."

Sam snorted, "Alright, alright." And with that, Dean's heart fell and breath rushed back into his lungs. Castiel did not want to have sex with him. The truth left him reeling, and he hoped it was because Castiel knew that Dean was actually straight, and if it wasn't for this curse Dean would never be acting this way towards him. "Hey, how about this? An odd strain of murders in Colorado." Sam questioned and the sound of the soft slide of the laptop being pushed across the table met Dean's ears before he leveraged himself off the door and went to lean against the wall he had previously gotten up from.

Dean slid down the wall, cradling the food in his arms until he met the floor, kicking out his legs from under him to let them spread hap-haphazardly across the bathroom floor. Pulling out his burger, he unwrapped the paper from the burger and bit into it, enjoying the taste of it.

Suddenly, Dean felt another's presence in the bathroom and he looked up from the burger to see the tan trench coat.

"Hey..." Dean muttered, looking up into Castiel's face before he noticed that the angel was holding something out to him. The soda that he had left on the table in favor of Castiel. "Oh. Thanks." Dean said, grabbing the soda out of Castiel's hand. The angel turned to leave but Dean grabbed his wrist and Castiel glanced down at it before his eyes slid across Dean's face to rest somewhere over his left shoulder. "I'm sorry, Cas It was wrong of me." Swallowing his pride had never been harder, especially since Dean wanted to stand up and shove the angel against the wall and make him scream his name.

Castiel's eyes flicked over, glancing into Dean's green ones. Eyebrows furrowed slightly, but the face and eyes remained emotionless before Castiel reached out and placed two fingers to the man's forehead. A tingling sensation filled his body, stemming from Castiel's fingers as they healed the throbbing headache Dean had been desperately trying to ignore. The angle nodded as if answering a silent question, "It is forgiven and forgotten." Then he was gone and Dean's hand was clutching air.

**A/N: Special thanks to ****My Dead Love****, ****XenoScene****, ****mina****, ****leyu02o.O wait levithian02 too****, ****Drawn****, ****Not even with bananas****, and ****Kuro-Nurofor**** reviewing last chapter.**

**And for that, you get a special gift of... One of Castiel's wing feathers. Just be careful, it might still have some 'angel mojo' in it, so don't point it at anyone or you might just disintegrate them. And I don't want the police arresting me.**

(I don't think you have one of these, **leyu02o wait leviathan02 too** =] )


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG...ish.  
**Warning:** Sexual content and language.

**A/N: **I'm sorry for posting this so late in the day, well, for my time zone. I mean to do it earlier but I'm currently on my clinical exams, not the most fun thing in the world, being graded and evaluated on how I do in an actual nursing setting.

And it seems as if I've fallen back into my role of 'detail whore'. I apologize profusely.

Next post will be up next Wednesday. Enjoy reading this chapter. Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Four

At the disappearance of Castiel, Dean rested his head against his knees, placing the drink on the floor next to him. It left a ring of water from the condensation. Reaching up, Dean flicked the fan on in the bathroom, deciding to get rid of the warm air that had been left from his shower. The noise also muffled the words that the two men in the other room might or might not be saying.

A small sigh passed Dean's lips as he unsuccessful pushed what had happened earlier today out of his mind. Lingering on these thoughts angered the man, and he closed his eyes, feeling the cool air from the fan land on the back of his neck. It had started as a regular day until everything got fucked up.

Sam and Dean had gotten up way before any normal human being should be awake. Walking over to the small coffee shop for a drink and a doughnut before they opened the newspaper. Well, Sam did. Dean enjoyed watching the skirt of the waitress as she leaned over the counter to grab a pen.

That was when Sam noticed that the witch had struck her next victim and he huffed as Dean painstakingly took his time drinking his coffee. It was more to annoy his brother and the fact that occasionally he liked to sit down like a normal person and eat his breakfast without thinking about their messed up lives. Once Dean had drank the dregs of his coffee, nose wrinkling slightly at the taste, they investigated the target's home. The mother was dead, the father missing, and two kids had been recovered locked in the closet.

Sam and Dean found hexbags in the bedroom once they had gotten by the police force, claiming that they were F.B.I. agents who were being sent in due to the increasing numbers of murders and disappearances in the small town. Leaving the house was a little bit difficult, since Dean had decided to open his mouth and insult the police officers. Sam, as usual, had kicked him and pulled his brother out of the house by his arm, glaring all the while. Dean just laughed, causing Sam agony with small annoyances were one of the things that kept the hunter sane.

As Sam poked through the hexbags, Dean began to keep his eyes out for food. Preferably something greasy and fattening that would shorten his lifespan by a couple of years. That's when Sam found it, shoving the evidence in Dean's face, almost causing him to swerve off the road as his eyes widened, trying to focus on the item that was so close to him.

"Congratulations, you've found a little dolly, you gonna play with it now?" Dean asked, reaching up and pushing Sam's hand out of his way. "Can you close that bag up? The bones are starting to stink up my baby."

Sam just snorted in return, placing the clay hex doll back into the black cloth and wrapped it up. "No, Dean, I am not going to play with the doll. But it was made of clay and there was an old pottery factory on the edge of town when we drove up."

Dean shrugged, finally spotting a diner up the road. "So?"

"So, we should go check it out." Sam replied, watching as Dean turned off his turn signal with a huff and pressed down on the accelerator harder than necessary and took off down the road, past the diner.

"Fine." Dean replied, reaching over to ruffle Sam's hair, messing up the way his younger brother had combed it back, nice and neat, out of his face. "Let's go kill this bitch."

Of course, neither one of them actually expected for her to be there.

Yawning, Dean glanced down at the watch on his wrist, the cold glare of the light off the bathroom walls reclaiming him to the present. After years of the watch not working it finally told the right time. After Dean had dropped Sam back off at college he drove away and noticed that his watch wasn't working, alerting him that something was wrong in Sam's apartment. At first the trip seemed an unsuccessful attempt at reclaiming his brother and having Sam beside him, and now Sam was too deep in the business to ever leave. Seeing Jessica on the ceiling like that was so much worse than how his father had described it. Dean could only imagine until he saw the fire and Jess' body. Now, he could clearly image his mother on the ceiling as John stared up at her form, yelling her name.

For years, Dean had left his watch immobile and finally Sam convinced his brother to get it fixed. Even looking down at the watch was still new and he often forgot that it was working and pulled out his cellphone for the time instead.

But now, he watched the second hand ticking away as it made a complete circle around the watch face. There was not anything for him to do, the television, company, and entertainment were all in the other room. Currently, he had a watch, mirror, shower, and his duffel bag full of clothes for company. His eyes searched around the room and he finally pulled the bag closer to him rifling around before he found a plain silver flask. It made a sloshing noise as Dean pulled it out and unscrewed the top of the flask, taking a large sip of the alcohol. It burned going down his throat but the man relished the warmth that spread through his body at the liquor.

Figuring that with the sip of alcohol he could finally sleep on the cold, tiled floor of the bathroom. Just in case, Dean took another sip before capping the flask back up and tossing it into his duffel, watching as it landed on top of a dark green t-shirt.

The last time he had worn that shirt a spirit had attempted to strangle him. Dean had felt helpless, his feet kicking the wall behind him, dangling inches above the floor. Sam had been knocked unconscious mere minutes before, his body resting in a crumpled heap near the corner.

He had used the last small amount of breath he had to call out, "Castiel!"

Before Dean passed out, he saw Castiel appeared, looking menacing in the dark light of the abandon house's foyer. What felt like seconds later, Dean's eyes snapped open and focused on bright blue eyes that seemed to be too close for him. In surprise, Dean sat up quickly, his forehead making contact with Castiel's lower jaw.

The pain from before decided to double with the movement and the unfortunate collision. Dean groaned in pain and rolled away from the angel, cradling his head in his hands.

"Dean?" Castiel asked, his voice so low it sounded like a growl.

"Just take me as Sammy back to our motel, Cas, please." Dean sighed, exhausted, hurt, and tired. Just wanting for the day to be over. Castiel just nodded and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Wait, Cas-"

It was too late. Dean stood in the center of the motel room, Sam blinking slowly from his spot on the bed, turning to look at Dean.

"-come with us..."

Dean shook his head, grabbing his coat from the corner of the room and balling it up so it would rest under his head while he slept in the bathroom. As he closed his eyes, Dean ignored the bright glare of the light behind his eyelids. Instead, thinking of the way Castiel would stay silent, although his bright eyes would give everything away to Dean. The way his passive voice held underlying tones of emotion.

But mostly, Dean imagined what Castiel looked like in his true form, the bright light and the soft melody of his voice, to someone who was more gifted than Dean. And that thought stayed with him as he drifted off to sleep, easier than he had in years.

* * *

The soft rustle of feathers stirred Dean slightly and he peered through squinted eyes at the figure over him. He was dark from blocking the light and the coat he was wearing made him seem larger than he was. Pushing himself up on his elbow, his body protesting the position he slept in, Dean could see the slightly messy hair and the stoic face.

"Cas?" Dean asked, attempting to figure out if what he was seeing was real.

The answer came back to him when the angel replied, voice rumbling through Dean and causing his body to tingle. "Dean."

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked sleepily, blinking his eyes multiple times in an effort to wake up faster. He glanced at his watch, seeing that it was well into the night, past the time that Sam would have gone to bed.

The angel did not respond to him and silence surrounded them as he reached down to place a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder. Instead, Dean grabbed Castiel's hand and pressed his lips lightly against the angel's knuckles in a chaste kiss. Castiel paused, his eyes widening slightly before he pulled his hand away. Dean let the angel's hand go, a happy feeling in his stomach as Castiel's hand touched his shoulder. Wind whirled around them and Dean felt the soft bed under him, glancing around to see him in his motel bed. Sam was in the other one, his back towards them.

The hunter let himself relax on the bed knowing he would enjoy sleeping on it more than the bathroom floor. Castiel was standing on the edge of the bed and he turned, seeming uncertain as to where to go, but after a second of hesitation, Castiel began to head to the bathroom. Dean reached up and grabbed the sleeve of the trench coat. "Where are you going?" Dean's sleepy voice asked, his green eyes glancing up to watch Castiel's face.

"You require sleep, I will stay in the bathroom for the night." Castiel murmured so he would not wake up Sam.

"You aren't going to leave, right?" Dean inquired, trying to clear his head in order to focus on the conversation. Castiel did not reply, only looking away from Dean's sleepy, yet inquisitive, gaze. "No, Cas, stay here please." Castiel's eyes return to Dean's face, searching for the emotions that were there. After a few seconds, Castiel nodded slowly and turned away, about to walk to the bathroom but Dean's hand stopped him. "With me."

Dean let go of Castiel's trench coat and scooted back from the edge of the bed. He slipped his feet under the covers and moved them away from him, lifting the edge and inviting Castiel underneath.

To Dean it seemed to take years for Castiel to decide, his eyes darting from the bathroom door to Sam and then to Dean. The hunter just tried to keep a positive face, his heart beating hard in his chest, just wanting Castiel to be close to him. He had no desire for sexual activities with the angel at the moment, right now he just wanted to feel the angel's weight on the bed beside him, hear the breath enter and leave the angel's body.

Then Castiel moved towards the bed with a hesitant step and a smile spread across Dean's face. Castiel knelt on the matress and awkwardly skid under the covers, keeping his distance from Dean as he rolled onto his back studying the pattern of light thrown on the ceiling from the streetlight.

"Relax." Dean murmured, moving towards Castiel and snuggling into his side. The angel froze, body tense, before Castiel's hands pushed Dean away from him.

"No." Castiel growled, moving as if he was going to get up causing Dean to frown, looking at the stoic expression of the angel.

"Hey." Dean muttered. "It's okay. I'm sorry." Castiel turned to look at Dean with an unchanging face. Dean sighed quietly and ran a hand through his hair before he reached down and unbuttoned the top of his jeans and pushed them down off his hips and kicked them out of the motel bed. Looking over at Castiel, Dean saw his questioning gaze. "More comfortable, here."

The hunter reached out and pushed the trench coat and suit jacket off one of Castiel's shoulder. Getting the hint the angel pulled them off his body and dropped them off the side of the bed. Then, with his feet, Dean pushed Castiel's shoes off and kicked them off the bed. His hands moved to unbutton Castiel's pants, but he froze and returned his hands to his own side.

Deeming Castiel acceptable for being in a bed, Dean nodded and smiled sleepily, the warmth of the bed and the proximity of the angel dulling his senses causing him to crave sleep. "Better?"

Castiel's answer came out almost as a question. "Yes..?"

"Good. Will you do something for me?" Dean asked, feeling sleep begin to overtake him.

"Anything." Castiel replied, laying on his back, his hands entwined and resting on his stomach.

That was all Dean needed before he moved to Castiel's side again, noticing that he did not become rigid like last time, cuddling into the angel, his head resting on Castiel's chest. The angel timidly put his arm around Dean causing the man to take advantage of the extra space and press his body against the side of the soldier. Slowly, Dean moved his top leg to intertwine with Castiel's feeling the rough cloth of the pants rub against his bare leg as it settled between Castiel's legs. The hunter let out a contented moan, throwing one arm over the angel's body and wrapping it around the his side.

If anyone had asked Dean if he cuddled, he would have denied it adamantly. The only time cuddling was allowed was after sex, and even then, there were limitations. But right now, Dean needed his body pressed up against Castiels, he needed to know he was not sleeping alone tonight. He needed Castiel. Not in a sexual way, but in an comforting and caring way. Dean knew this feeling was one sided and wouldn't be reciprocated. Castiel did not need anyone, and Dean reluctantly admitted that to himself.

"G'night." Dean mumbled quietly, barely able to get the words out before he drifted off.

The last thing he was conscious of, was a barely audible humming from Castiel, coming from deep in his chest, as he ran his fingers lightly through Dean's hair.

* * *

**A/N:** I feared people were getting sick of the sexual tension, so I decided to end this chapter with something sweet. =]

**Thank you My Dead Love, We need more lube, .Charade, Jay Yates, angelaofthelord, Nerdette92, l****eyu02o wait leviathan02 too****, Casismyfavorite, Celphius, FireChildSlytherin5, snowin' you, and aishaduh for commenting.**

**For your prize you get... some of Sammy's hair since I feel like he's getting no love in this story. But when he comes running around bald, don't point in my direction. I have a feeling he could kill me and dispose of my body with out anyone ever finding it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG...ish.  
**Warning:** Sexual content and language.

**A/N: **So I decided that no one wanted to hear the term "morning wood" called nocturnal penile tumescence- see I'm looking out for everyone- and decided to simplify it.

I am so sorry that this is out a day late. I came home last night and went straight to sleep and I know that's not really a good excuse but I promise I'll try not to let it happen again.

This chapter really did not come out as smoothly as I wanted it to, I feel like it leave a lot to be desired but the quality will go up... hopefully. I proofed it while watching Merlin so blame it on that. =] New Season of Merlin this weekend! Woot!

Next post will be up next Wednesday. Enjoy reading this chapter. Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Five

The sun had barley risen over the horizon when Dean moved his leg feeling a solid body issuing warmth next to him and two legs entwined around his. Along with the slow pains of waking up, he felt his arm asleep beneath him and assumed that was when had caused him to rise at such an early hour. The sun cast an orange hue around the room and it seemed too bright for him to want to open his eyes.

Almost like an instinct, Dean crowded closer to the warm body, pressing himself against the side, his erection from sleep pushing against the body's side. He gasped in surprise at the pleasure that seemed to reverberate through his body in his sleepy state. Slowly, as if he was not even realizing what was he was doing, Dean pulled his waist back a bit and began to rock against the solid pressure, a small moan leaving his body. To stop himself making any more noise he turned his head against the body's shoulder, burying his face in the cloth. The hunter began to become lost in what the movement was doing to his body, sending waves of pleasure over him with the friction to his erection.

A deep voice cleared his throat.

That brought Dean to the present and his body froze.

That was clearly a man's voice who had cleared his throat. Not a woman's. The body was too firm to be a woman's.

And what was worse, the man smelled like nature. And Dean knew that the man in bed with him was an angel.

And of course, the only angel he knew was Castiel.

It took Dean a few seconds to process everything and once his did, his eyes shot open turning his head slightly to look up. Castiel's face was inches from his, ocean blue eyes staring into mossy green. Castiel's face was passive, but Dean could swear he could see some mirth dancing behind the blue irises.

Suddenly, yesterday came back to the hunter. The driven desire to have a sexual relationship with the angel he was in bed with. Memories of shoving Castiel against the wall and attempting to undo his belt. The pleasurable shower. The thoughts and reactions, all of it. They all came back and Dean's face turned a deep red from embarrassment and in surprise he rolled away from Castiel, only to have his legs get tangled up with the angels and his torso fall, unceremoniously, off the bed and onto a floor.

Dean would have denied that the surprised yell that came out of his mouth was nothing more than a squeak.

Castiel pushed himself up off the bed with one arm to look down at the man on the floor, gently moving his legs away from Deans. At the loss of support, Dean's legs soon followed him to the floor.

Laying on the dusty smelling carpet, looking up at Castiel really put things in perspective for Dean. He's eyes roamed Castiel's features, the messy hair, the pale skin with stubble lining his strong jaw, and the ever-present iridescent irises. It was just Castiel. Just an angel parading around in a vessel and trying to fit into human life.

There was nothing. No intense desire for the angel, no hidden agenda, what Dean had previously felt for the angel under the influence of the curse seemed to have been banished with the rising sun.

"Cas, what are you doing?" Dean hissed, all too aware of his sleeping brother in the bed next to them.

Dean could swear that there was a hint of a smile on Castiel's lips. "You invited me into your bed last night."

A quiet sputtering noise passed between Dean's lips and the blush rose to his cheeks once again. "No, no, no..."

The smile fell from Castiel's lips, returning him to the stoic and impassive expressions as always. Dean felt himself missing the mischievous glint in the angel's eyes."You are correct, you would not let me go, begging me to stay with you."

"I-but-why?" Dean stuttered although he knew the answer.

"I would assume it was in response to the curse. But it seems as if it has vanquished it's hold on you." Dean raised a questioning eyebrow at the angel. He knew that he was fine, but hearing it from someone else's mouth seemed to reinforce the idea that he was had no inclination towards the angel. "Your bodily functions are normal. No dilated pupils, heart rate steady, and your erection was due to sleep."

"Oh." Dean muttered, pulling down a corner of the blanket to cover himself, feeling over exposed to the angel.

"Or perhaps because of your dreams."

"Huh- Were you reading my mind?"

"Hardly, Dean, that would be an invasion of your privacy-"

"Never stopped you before." Dean muttered sullenly remembering all to clearly the multiple times that Castiel had seemed lost when it came to human social regulations and courtesies.

"-I was merely stating from the fact of what you were saying in your sleep." Castiel continued as if there was no interruption at all.

There was silence between them as Castiel looked down to Dean who made no movement to get up from his prone position on the floor. Castiel was currently occupying the bed and there was no way he would get into that small bed with another man. Sam and him used to do that when they were younger, but even now he would kick gigantor out of his bed to sleep on the floor or couch. Though, Sam was enjoying beating him for everything with rock, paper, scissors and most often Dean was left in the uncomfortale position of the armchair or too small couch.

Dean really didn't want to know, but curiosity got the better of him. "What was I saying?" Castiel paused for a few seconds. "Cas?"

"You said my name multiple times, along with wanting the knowledge of my true form, and the desire to fornicate with an angel, and quite a lot of moaning. A few times I feared for your brothers sleep but fortunately he was not aware of the developments." Castiel said, his deep voice rumble though the room at a lower tone than usual due to the sleeping man in the other bed.

"What the hell?" Dean yelled pushing away from the bed, his feet tangling up in the clovers and pulling them off the mattress. He knew Castiel was telling the truth, the angel seemed to have a difficult time lying, but at least he could have saved Dean's pride and left out multiple details... or all of the details.

Castiel's eyes widened in slight surprise at the outburst from the hunter but it disappeared quickly, as if Castiel was cataloging Dean's reactions and figured this was a sufficient one for the information he had been told.

A small groan came from the other bed and Dean realized he had practically yelled the statement, waking his younger brother. Castiel's eyes left Dean's face and he turned, seeing Sam stir in his bed. In an instant Castiel had disappeared from the room, leaving a startled Dean on the floor, mulling over the information that he had received.

"Dean...?" Sam's voice croaked out to his brother when he noticed that there was no one in the bed across from

him.

The older brother rolled over and knelt on the floor, peeking over the bed to see the tousled hair covering his brother's face. "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Oh... I thought I heard you yell something, but then you weren't in the bed..." Sam's glossy eyes traveled around the room as he reached up and pushed some of the hair out of his face.

Dean shrugged, knowing the movement had gone unnoticed by Sam and crawled back in bed, dragging the covers up with him. As Dean settled back into bed he felt the body heat left by Castiel lingering on the sheets. A content sigh heaved from the shoulders of the man and he closed his eyes, letting the warmth envelop him. "Yeah, I fell off the bed." He muttered, closing his eyes.

"Dean...?" Sam asked again.

"Mm?"

"Why are Cas' clothes on the floor?"

Dean's eyes shot open, staring across the room at his brother. Sam seemed more awake, his green eyes waiting for the answer that Dean was not ready to give. Ever. Dean aimed for a nonchalant voice but what he got was a far cry from it. "No reason, just go back to sleep."

Sam grunted, as if not wanting to argue and wanting sleep more, before he rolled over and pulled the covers up. Dean waited for his brother's breathing to become regular before he closed his eyes and fell back asleep as well, letting the warmth of Castiel's body cover him and breathing in the scent of nature that lingered on the pillow from the angel.

* * *

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" Dean called over to the lump in the other bed. A small groan replied and Dean chuckled, lacing up his boots. The sun had fully risen and it was past time for them to wake up and get on the road. The dingy motel room with its faded green pain and speckled brown carpet held no sway over them, in fact, it was spurring Dean on to leave the small town in his rearview mirror. Castiel's clothes were no where to be seen and Dean assumed the angel had turned up and grabbed when while the Winchesters had been sleeping. "Come on, Sammy!" Dean called out again, reaching over to slap a hand on his brothers shoulder.

The younger Winchester pushed himself up and glared over at Dean, amazed to find him awake and coherent in the morning for once. "Fine, just let me take a shower." Sam grumbled, pushing the covers off of him.

"Really? I thought we were going to get ready to leave, hit a nice diner and get out of town." Dean replied, shoving his dirty clothes in his duffel bag.

"Well, incase you forgot, someone decided that it would be a good idea to camp out in the bathroom last night. I can still feel the witch on me. I think she drooled on my face." Sam retorted, grabbing his duffel bag and shuffling towards the bathroom. Dean grimaced at the thought and zipped his bag up just as his brother turned and leaned against the bathroom doorway. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, fine. I'm back to normal." Dean answered, turning so his back was to Sam.

"You sure? 'Cuz you an Cas would make an adorable couple. You all macho-man with a huge sex drive and poor, timid Castiel who wouldn't even know what to do with an hard-on." Sam laughed, watching the back of his brother.

"You're real funny, Sam, I'll give you that." Dean growled, trying to take what Sam was saying as a joke.

"Sleeping with him last night must have been an experience." Sam waited for Dean's reply, but nothing was forthcoming. "I know I didn't just imagine his clothes on the floor."

"Just go take your shower." Dean replied with a sigh, closing his eyes. He knew this would be a long day and Sam had gained some new material to tease him about. But if things got too far, Dean was not above putting Nair in the man's shampoo again.

Sam just laughed, turning around and walking into the bathroom. Once he heard the bathroom door shut, Dean opened his eyes and relaxed his shoulders.

There was nothing exciting in the room so Dean just wandered around, making sure that they had grabbed everything. Sam's items were still spread around the room and Dean almost began to pack them for his brother before deciding that there was nothing Dean wanted to do for him, especially after the quips he had received that morning. Instead, Dean sat back on his bed, resting against the headboard as he listened to the running shower. Closing his eyes, Dean imagined the way that Castiel had felt against his body. It wasn't uncomfortable, it was actually rather nice, he felt protected and needed at the same time.

* * *

"This dinner again?" Sam asked with an exasperated eye roll that went unnoticed by Dean. They shoved their items into the booth, following them into their respective seats. The diner was relatively empty other than a few patrons and two waitresses. The booths were made of red leather which also covered the spinning chairs at the long counter and the tables were made of cheep wood. There were large windows which were pointed int eh direction of what could claim to be a historic downtown but many of the buildings were empty where business died or moved away.

"Yeah, they've got good pie." Dean replied, looking up at the chalkboard on the wall, reading the specials.

"It's breakfast, Dean." Sam chided, glancing up at the board as well.

"And your point it...?" Dean asked, glancing at his brother with a slightly annoyed look. After all this time, it seemed that Sam had not learned that pie was good any time of the day.

But at that instant a pretty waitress came over and handed them menus a pleasant smile on her face. Her eyes flicked from Sam and then to Dean, lingering on him. She had black hair that was pulled back into a loose ponytail, ringlets of loose curls running through them. Her blue-gray eyes traced Dean's features as she lightly bit her teeth into her lower, pink lip.

"Hi, I'm Annabel, I'll be your waitress today. What can I start you off with?" She asked, her sweet voice filling the area.

Dean smiled back at her, "Well, how about you for starters." The waitress giggled at the comment and Dean felt a foot connect sharply with his shin. "What the fuck, Sam?" Dean exclaimed, angrily staring across the booth at his brother.

Sam wasn't looking at him, instead he smiled politely at the confused waitress. "Excuse him, something wrong up there." Sam motioned to his head. "Can you give us a few minutes to decide?"

Annabel nodded, placing the notebook in the front of her apron. "Of course." She replied, a small smile on her lips. She winked at Dean before she left, heading to another booth with new customers.

Dean couldn't help but watch her walk away, his eyes following her curves and admiring the way her hips swung.

"She looks an awful lot like Cas." Sam stated, looking at his menu.

"Huh? No!" Dean denied, tearing his eyes away from Annabel to look at his brother. Although Sam looked engaged in the menu Dean knew he was waiting for a reaction. "For one, it's a woman."

Sam glanced over at Annabel who was leaning over the counter, her skirt raising up and showing more of her thigh than was necessary. "Black hair, blue eyes and just happens to be a woman. It doesn't seem like a coincidence."

Dean's eyes were on Annabel's legs and he imagined what Castiel's legs would look like if they were revealed in that fashion. A small grimace passed over Dean's face when he couldn't decide whether he liked that image or not. "Just... be quiet, Sammy." Dean growled, opening his menu.

"You sure? I was about to tell you about the case Cas and I found last night." When Dean made no protest, Sam continued. "People go to the bar, then their significant other arrives to bring them back home and the person just appears dead the next day."

Dean looked up, attempting to pay attention and not think about whether he should have bacon or sausage. "What's the death count?"

"Five, so far." Sam replied, closing his menu and placing it back on the table.

Dean whistled, that was a rather large number, the police must have caught on by now. "Where's it happening?"

"Chicago." Sam shrugged, it was a shot in the dark, but not much else was panning out for them.

Dean smiled, figuring he would get the largest breakfast he could. "Chicago it is."

* * *

**Thank you XClaire BearX,** **Butterfly****, SpectaclesF, Jay Yates, aishaduh, FireChildSlytherin5, My Dead Love, Celphius, Fortuona, Perry123, leyu02o.O wait leviathan02 too for your amazing reviews. Seriously, they make my day since I worry about each chapter and always fear it isn't good enough.**

**And your prize is... A day with the Trickster! Just... be safe... okay? I already bribed him with a lot of candy but who knows what he might do. He is the Trickster after all. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG.  
**Warning:** Language.

**A/N: **Again, a day late. I wish I could have posted on Winchester Wednesday. The episode... ohmygosh... just...

Lame excuse for why it's late, I started typing up a Supernatural AU. I want to post it, but I don't know whether I should wait until I've finished it, like I usually do, or just go ahead and post it as I'm writing it.

Next post will be up next Wednesday. Enjoy reading this chapter. Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Six

The drive to Chicago was relatively short since they were located on the east cost of the United States. Though, the drive was not nearly long enough for Dean who desired nothing more than to take the Impala on a extended road trip. To hear the engine purr underneath the hood as he stepped on the accelerator, making the tired rotate faster against the road. Having miles disappear in the rearview mirror as they headed to some unknown destination ahead of them. For now, the eight hour drive would have to do, the roads winding through the hills as trees stood on the side of the highway, urging Dean to get to somewhere remotely flat where he could see for miles. It was days like theses that he found himself claustrophobic, the trees and the mountains pressing in on him while all he desired was the flat rolling landscape of the midwest, of Kansas.

Sam was rather quiet as he watched the passing the the trees and Dean did not complain about his brother's silence as he softly sang with the song on the radio. When they had first gotten in, Dean spent a while trying to find an oldies rock station, but as luck would have it, he finally got a clear signal and the station came in.

It was taunting, almost, the speed of the road set by law, a law that Dean rarely paid attention too. With a baby like his, speed was necessary to make her shine and glow with the ability to rumble across the tar, having the white lines on the road move past them. But no matter what, an object in the distance seemed to stay away. The distance between the Impala and the object seemed to stretch and drag out. Teasing them about the speed at witch they were going. Although the trees seemed to pass by them at an alarming speed, blurring as they leave the window and stood in the rear-view mirror. Just the desire to press on the accelerator for his pride's sake and for his baby, to cover the distance they needed seemed too much for Dean.

"Dean." The silence between them was broken and from the tone of Sam's voice Dean knew he was not going to like the conversation that came with it. He felt himself wishing that Sam would have left them in peace just a while longer as he was in the middle of singing a good song. "Are we going to talk about it?" Sam asked, turning his body away from the windows and the blurred trees in order to watch his brothers reaction.

"Talk about what?" Dean growled, glancing over at his brother and meeting determined eyes that wanted to get to the bottom of this.

Sam shook his head, his eyes cast down on the seat in between them. "About you an Cas."

There was silence between them as Dean put his directional on and moved into the other lane, passing a car that was rapidly approaching them due to the difference in speeds. "There's nothing to talk about. It was a curse."

Another pause and Dean glanced back at Sam who seemed to be mulling over the information. "Are you sure?"

"Hell yeah, Sammy, Chicks. Not dicks." Dean said, a small smile on his face. "Want me to prove it to you."

A grimace passed over Sam's face. "No thank you. I really don't need you to go over the ample flesh of a breast again."

"Ah, but, Sammy, that's not even the best part." Dean grinned, joking around as he maneuvered the car back into the previous lane with ease. "What's this all about?"

"I just worry, sometimes." Sam admitted, looking down into this lap, his fingers interlocking.

Dean chuckled, reaching over and patting Sam's leg. "That's because you're a big girl."

"Not funny, Dean." Sam growled, turning to look out the window at the trees passing by, but his eyes didn't focus on them, letting them slide by. "It's just, you know, Cas. He's a good ally and I don't want to loose him. We might need him."

Dean's brows furrows and his gaze shifted over to Sam. "Yeah. He's a good _friend_. Isn't he?"

Sam looked confused before he realized what Dean meant and a slight blush rose to his cheeks as he realized his error. "Of course, I wasn't implying he was a weapon that we wielded. But there are implications that might arise to what happened due to his social skills and mentality."

Dean shook his head and held up his hand, stopping his brother in his tracks. "Sam, Cas is a big boy, he can take care of himself."

Sam just shrugged his shoulder in response, worried as to how the past forty-eight hours could have impacted Castiel. He wasn't exactly normal in the human classification and who knows how he could have reacted to this. And even though Dean and Sam were thinking this they kept it to themselves, wanting, hoping that Castiel would be okay.

* * *

"Honest to God, Sam." Dean hissed at him from across the diner table. "This should be over by now."

It had been a week and another person in a relationship had died that past weekend. Dean was getting rather upset and angry. He should be stopping it, he should be protecting the citizens of the world from things that they don't need to know about. But instead, it seemed like Sam and him were twiddling their thumbs until the weekend came. It was always the weekend that it struck. For the past six weeks it had been and now they were hoping that it stuck to it's pattern.

Sam was ignoring him, pouring over the report from the last dead woman, his face schooled in concentration.

"Hell, maybe it's not even something supernatural." Dean huffed out, picking up a french fry and twirling it around in the pool of ketchup on his plate. "Maybe it's just that people like killing their girlfriend."

"Or boyfriend." Sam finally interjected a small sigh escaping his lips as he closed the folder and reached for his salad. "It has to be supernatural, I mean, look at the evidence."

Dean popped the french fry in his mouth, chomping down at it as he watched Sam pour some dressing over the lettuce. "I have. I've looked at it all so much that the information is imprinted on my brain."

Picking up his fork, Sam speared a few pieces of lettuce and a piece of chicken and placed them in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully trying to avoid looking at Dean who was chewing with his mouth wide open making some of the most rude noises known to man with his mouth. "It's not demonic possession, we've figured that out. It strikes totally random bars in the downtown area. Kills one partner of a relationship." Sam muttered, glancing down at the coroners report.

Suddenly, the younger Winchester freezes and he looks at his brother. "Dean, it also targets homosexual couples."

Dean glanced up from his burger at his brother, watching the revelation cross Sam's face, slightly confused at the comment he had interjected. "Good... for it?" Dean watched Sam and then his eyes widened in horror. "Oh no, Sammy. Hell. No." Dean placed the burger down on his plate and crossed his arms across his chest.

Sam shook his head, "Dean..."

"No, Sam, and that's final. First off, you're my brother. Second, I am not gay." Dean growled, his green eyes boring into Sam's.

"It doesn't matter. We're not actually gay, we're just pretending." Sam argued back, his posture stiff, showing Dean that he would not back down from this argument.

Dean shook his head, dropping it to the table between them. "And how is that supposed to help. The thing probably chooses people at random."

Sam's shoulder slumped slightly and he sighed. "I know, but it's the best plan we've got, so let's go with that."

There was truth in those words that Dean did not want to admit but as he sat there and uncomfortable feeling spread through him at the prospect of Sam being in such a position. It would be easy enough for something to happen and for him to get hurt. Especially since they had no clue what they were dealing with.

Clearing his throat, Dean began again, "Sammy, I understand, right now we don't have much of an option. And... It's just pretended. It will help a lot of people out in the long run. But... I don't want you to get hurt. Something could happen." This was as close to an apology as Sam would ever get. His brother was looking up at him with a confused face, slight anger in the lines around his mouth, but surprise at the care of his brother in the undertones of his eyes. "Maybe-"

But Dean was cut off by the noise blaring out of Sam's cellphone which sat on the table. They both glanced at it, pulling them back to reality and away from the problem. Reaching out, Sam answered the call and Dean was forced to listen to a one sided conversation.

"Hello... Hi... Yeah, sure... The Red Star Diner in Chicago..." Sam looked at his phone for a second before he closed it.

A small ruffle of wings announced Castiel's appearance and the Winchesters looked at him as he sat in the booth next to Sam, adjusting himself against the black leather seats.

"Nice of you to pop in." Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing as he saw that Castiel was sitting next to Sam instead of his usual place next to him. But he did not mention it, instead turning back to his burger.

"Hello." Castiel's voice rumbled as he nodded at both of the men before he turned his gaze out the diner window, watching the busy street. People passed by on the sidewalk and Castiel's eyes followed them, seemingly intrigued by each and every person. Dean wondered if Castiel was reading their minds and what he was seeing.

The brothers glanced at each other as they lingered through Castiel's silence. Finally, Sam cleared his throat and Dean asked, "so Cas, gonna tell us why you're here?"

Castiel seemed startled by Dean's voice and his blue eyes turned away from a business man in a suit to glance at Dean. "Yes... I need your help." His deep voice seemed to lower and there was a hint of embarrassment in it.

Dean ground his teeth together and looked at Sam who shrugged. "What is it?"

"Something needs to be returned to heaven."

"Fuck. This is about your pissing match with Raphael, isn't it?" Dean hissed balling his hands into fists. This was the last thing they needed right now. Even thought Castiel never asked them for anything, always blindly following along, Dean was slightly confused as to why he was reacting in such a way.

Castiel was silent, his eyes traveling from Dean's face and back out the window as a woman in shorts and a tank top jogged by with a Labrador on a leash. "This is something I must do." Castiel's eyes turned on Dean and for a second he remembered that this supernatural being could smite him with barely a touch of his fingers. There would always be that authority behind the voice. Authority and demand. Dean remembered when Castiel told Dean that he should give him the respect he deserves. And in this second Dean remembered why.

Again, the brothers glanced at each other before Sam spoke. "Cas, of course we'll help you, but we're on a case right now so if..."

Castiel turned his stunning gaze onto the man next to him. "Of course. I can wait. It was rude of me to assume."

"No, no. It's alright. We're at a roadblock, so we could probably use your help." Dean jumped in, wanting that gaze to be on him.

The angel nodded slowly, "I shall endeavor to help to the best of my ability."

The Winchesters returned to eating their food before Sam glanced over at the angel who seemed to be watching Sam's salad intently. Dean looked up to see that and then blurted out, "Cas, will you pretend to be gay with me."

Sam's fork froze halfway to his mouth and Castiel's gaze was focused on Dean's emerald green eyes. "I do not understand." Castiel finally admitted, moving his eyes from Dean to Sam.

Dean hastened to explain what he had meant properly. "Sam and I were gonna go undercover as a gay couple since the thing we're hunting is killing one significant other from a relationship. I'm okay with it, just so you know, but I worry about Sam getting hurt and all."

The only noise heard was the bustling around the diner as the waitress slid some plates down on the table. Other people were talking, but it was low murmuring when it reached their ears.

"Does this also mean that you can get hurt as well, Dean?" Castiel's deep voice finally rumbled across the table.

One of the older hunter's shoulders raised. "It can, but I'm less important."

Castiel tilted his head and Dean glanced away from him and down at his burger, picking it up and taking a bite of it.

"That is not the case." Castiel's voice flowed over him. "You are equally important." There was no response to this so Dean just focused on the burger he was chewing. "I shall... go undercover with you." Castiel said hesitantly, seeming to trip over the words that were coming out of his mouth.

Dean and Sam looked up at him in slight surprise.

"Alright. Let's do this." Sam muttered, a grin forming on his lips as he looked between the two other beings.

* * *

The weekend was rapidly approaching and Dean paced the room feeling angry, upset, and embarrassed by whole ordeal. Angry that there was people who were dying, upset that they didn't know anything about the killer, and embarrassed by what he and Castiel will need to embark on. What did not help was the fact that he was cooped up with the angel and his brother for the past two days as they tried to figure out anything.

"Look at this." Castiel's voice rumbled out and Dean felt a shiver go down his spine as the silence in the room was finally broken. After hours upon hours of the quiet, Dean was about ready to go take another shower just to hear the water pelting the plastic sides of the stall.

Both of the brothers turned towards the table that Castiel was standing over, the sides of his trench coat pressing lightly against the table as his hand laid splayed against the city plans on the table. Lifting his hand, his finger traced a light red route traveling across the city to the bars.

"What is that?" Sam murmured, leaning down and squinting at the plans under the harsh glow of the overhead light.

"Sewers." Castiel answered, having no need to squint at the small writing.

"Shifter." Dean breathed and all three of them looked at each other. The brothers face held a tone of incredulity while Castiel's face stayed as emotionless as ever, but when Dean finally moved, clapping his hand on Castiel's shoulder and muttered that he had done a good job a spark of happiness appeared in his eyes

Turning, Dean went to his duffel bags and began to grab out items. "Now that we know what we're dealing with, this shouldn't be too hard."

But Sam stayed where he was, his eyes tracing the red lines and wondering how many of them connected to a bar. "It'll be impossible to figure out where it'll strike next." The older brother froze, letting Sam's words wash over him. In reality, it would be impossible, there had to be hundreds of bars in the city alone. They may have the creatures mode of transportation, but it's decisions of where to hit next were unknown to them.

A soft fluttering of wings could be heard from their right and the area where Castiel had been standing previously was vacated. The only semblance that he had been there was the footprints in the thick green rug and the cooling handprint on the wooden table.

A car blared by on the road, loud music pouring out of the open windows, bleeding in through the thin walls of the motel. The walls were covered with wallpaper a lighter shade of green than the rug and a boarder of intricately woven leaves stood about waist height and ran the length of the walls. The overhead light hummed with electricity and the harsh light it threw was giving Dean the beginnings of a pounding headache. The door to the bathroom was cracked open and the tiles were slick from where Dean's wet footprints had hit the surface that morning when he had gotten out of the shower. It was a motel room. Same as any other. The brothers lived their life one motel room to the next. They never seemed to change, blurring into one another as each night they crashed onto the bed. They were different, but not enough to take notice of. But now, in the few seconds that Castiel seemed to have left, Dean took in every detail, even the small nail hole in the left corner of the ceiling.

A soft whispering of wings caused the Winchester's heads to turn. Castiel was standing in the corner of the room, seeming to be exactly the same as before he left. The only thing that had changed was the position of some stands of his hair, as if a gently wind had pushed it in another direction. The angel strode forward, covering the distance to the table with ease.

"There are only four bars in the downtown area of Chicago that are connected to the sewers. These are the ones he had not found prey at." Castiel laid his palm flat and hovered it over the map. Four pinpoints of light glowed from the paper marking the bars.

Sam smiled, covering a glowing light with his finger before pulling it away. "Four's do-able. Thank's Cas."

The angel nodded back before he stepped away from the table, leaving the Winchesters to look at the area and figure out which bars they were.

It was growing into late afternoon by the time that everything had been sorted out. Castiel had stood quietly off in the distance, eyes surveying the brothers in a cool, calculating way. Finally, the brothers stood, Dean stretching up to the ceiling and feeling some bones in his back crack with the pressure.

"I say we go celebrate." Dean said, looking between the angel and his brother before he grabbed his leather jacket off the back of the chair and grabbed the keys to the Impala off the table. "Come on, Death showed me this great pizza place."

"Death?" Sam asked, grabbing his own jacket and following Dean out the door.

"Yeah, Death. Skinny, tall guy with black hair." Noticing they were one person short, Dean turned and leaned back in the doorway seeing Castiel standing in the same spot. "Let's go, Cas."

The angel hesitated before he headed towards the door, his trench coat billowing out behind him as he followed the brothers into the parking lot and closing the motel door behind him.

* * *

** A/N:** Special thanks to **Whateva876, leyu02o.O wait leviathan 01 too, Perry123, Kate, Celphuis, We need more lube, My Dead Love, FireChildSlytherin5, aishaduh, Frustration **for reviewing last chapter.

For that, your prize is... a bullet from the colt. That way, Sam, Dean and Cas will come visit each and every one of you to get the colt bullet back... Hopefully.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG-13.  
**Warning:** Sexual Content and Language.

**A/N: **I apologize for the length... I got carried away... I even tried to trim down on details.

Ready for another lame excuse? Ready? I went to Atlanta and got my wallet stolen. Yep. That me. It's so hard living with a coffee addiction and having no money. Oh and no I.D. to board the airplane with. But I got a later flight and my mother is wiring money to my roommate's mother in China, so it's all good.

So thank you for bearing with me. I love you all. I was able to post the first chapter of a Supernatural AU I'm writing because Starbucks is nice and gives away free Wi-Fi... sometimes. Feel free to check it out, I guess.

Next post will be up next Thursday. Enjoy reading this chapter. Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Seven

Some people think that dreams are the gateway to the mind. They allow people to see what they truly think, want, and desire. Philosophers and Psychologists sometimes claim that they're the unbidden knowings of the Id, the subconscious coming to play when the mind is at its weakest. Then there are others who claim to see visions of the coming future with them, that they, themselves, can see what will happen. Analyzing has played a part, books can be bought and parts of the dreams can be played on repeat as people try to find out that a weeping willow tree in their dreams means that they've lost something large, but change is on the way. Not many people focus on the negative aspects of dreaming. The nightmares that wake people in a cold sweat, the empty feeing in their stomach causing them to writhe in fear and unhappiness. The jolting awake, eyes wide open and consciousness chasing into their mind, unbidden. Then, there is the information that is brought to a half waking person from the previous night, accompanied by an uncomfortable headache and a rolling sickness deep in their abdomen.

Dean was not sure what type of dream he was waking up from, the nightmare or the drunken state of consciousness that was just letting him wake up from a long night of intoxication. He could still tell he was pleasantly drunk from the way his whole body tingled, a fresh buzz running through his mind and the laziness of his limbs to move on his demands. A flash of light pink lips crossed him mind and the ghost of the pressure they brought against his own. A warm body lay against him and he felt skin against the splay of his hand. Gently, he pressed his fingers down, feeling the ripple of muscle underneath and shivered as he enjoyed the feeling. He moved his hand from the body's chest and wrapped it around the body's waist, pulling it closer to him as he rested burrowed against it, enjoying the feeling of it next to him. Dean's mind barely registered that he was cuddling with someone in the female's position no less, but he pushed it away, feeling bliss overtake him and help him drift off to sleep.

When the hunter woke up again it was with a jolt, a throbbing headache pounding behind his eyes and temples. A dry mouth that lead to an upset stomach that was pulsing with the need to vomit the poison from his system. His whole body ached and each beat of his heart sent a pulse of light pain through him. His right arm was numb from his position. It seemed that in the night he had rolled to his side and used his hands as a pillow and they were numb from the pressure and the lack of blood reaching the oxygen deprived cells. As he slowly opened his eyes he saw Sam tangled up in the blankets on the other bed before he had to close them due to the rapid dilation of his pupils and the hurtful sun streaming in through the crack of the curtains on the window.

It was then that he noticed the warmth of a body behind him. The chest of someone pressed full against his back and the body's arm wrapped around his waist, pulling Dean against them and rubbing lazy circles with their fingers on the skin of his hip. The feeling of the body's fingers were pleasant, almost intoxicating and the trail they left seemed to buzz, causing Dean to shiver. At that movement, the fingers stopped and there was a slight shift on the mattress behind him, as if they were checking to see if he was awake. But then the fingers began to rub the lazy circles again when Dean stayed still for long enough. He relished in the feeling but something seemed wrong, as if the fingers were too rough, too big to belong to any females.

Suddenly, Dean rolled onto his back and sat straight up, causing the arm to go limp and fall into his lap. Glancing over, Dean saw Castiel's blue eyes staring at him curiously, the sheet of the bed pulled up to his waist, but he had been stripped of the multiple layers he wore on top leaving the skin of his chest, stomach, and arms bare. A quick thought passed through Dean's mind about how many layers of shirts Castiel usually wore. Trench coat, suit jacket, white button-up shirt, and white t-shirt. They were all gone, leaving Dean the ability to stare at the angel's body unhindered.

"Cas...?" Dean started before the violent change in position started to cause his head to pound as if someone was driving a knife into his eye sockets. "What are-"

Before Dean could finish that sentence he doubled over and vomited the contents of his stomach onto the pale skin of Castiel.

* * *

**The previous night:**

"Okay, I admit, this isn't bad." Sam mumbled, his mouth stuffed with Chicago style deep dish pizza.

They were on their second pizza, Castiel watching them silently as Dean and Sam shoveled the food into their mouths at record speed. They had a pitcher of Chicago brewed beer with them, but the brother's knew they would hit a bar before going back to the motel. It seemed like a good idea. Dean always like to embody the 'when in Rome' philosophy. It had taken about half an hour of pointless driving before Dean recognized the front of the pizza shop. When Crowley had taken them here he had not gotten oriented with the city even though he had been there countless times to hunt supernatural beings. But now this was the second time in the shop with something that was more that a mere mortal.

Dean looked up at Sam, a smile on his face as he swallowed what was in his mouth and took a swing of beer. "Told you, Death know's what he's talking about when it comes to food."

"Huh." Sam replied, concentrating on the piece in front of him. "So he decided not to destroy Chicago because of this pizza shop. Good thing he choose a good place."

Dean grunted in agreement as he glanced around the small shop, watching as a man behind the counter pounded away merciless at some dough on the cutting board. It was warm in the shop due to the oven brick fires that were roaring, cooking the pizza and causing the aroma to float around the store. Dean reached for another piece of pizza, sliding it onto the third plate they received for Castiel, and passed it over to the blue eyed being. "Here."

The angel glanced over at Dean, turning his eyes away from Sam who was taking a swig of beer out of his mug. "I do not understand."

"It's for you... to eat." Under Castiel's glare Dean felt slightly foolish for his actions, but he attempted to stand his ground. "Try it, you might like it."

Castiel's eyes glanced down at the food in front of him as if sizing it up, though Dean feared they would waste a good piece of pizza by Castiel smiting it. Then, Castiel reached across the table and grabbed the red pepper shaker from in front of Sam who watched as if fascinated. He shook a few on and then frowned even deeper at the food before he proceeded to cover the pizza in the pepper flakes.

"Cas... they're-" Sam began to warn before the angel interrupted him.

"Jimmy tells my this is the best way to eat Chicago style pizza."

Dean shrugged, "Well, Jimmy must always be right."

Two pairs of eyes watched the angel carefully as he took his first bite of the pizza. It nearly killed Dean with anticipation as Castiel chewed the pizza slowly and then swallowed, a contemplating stare met the pizza. "It is... adequate."

Silence surrounded the table as the brothers glanced at each other.

"What do you mean adequate?" Dean asked. The comment had stung, especially since Dean was the one who suggested Castiel tried the pizza. Sam shot his brother a warning glance as Castiel's eyes left the pizza and stared into Dean's green ones.

"It is adequate because I have nothing to compare it to." Castiel replied, reaching down to the pizza and taking another small bite of it. Again, he took his time chewing the food, gazing at the wall across the room.

Dean knew he was staring at nothing, but he couldn't help but glance anyways. "Well then, I say we gotta give you some new experiences to compare it to." He chuckled as he reached into his wallet and grabbed enough money to cover the cost of their dinner. Sam grabbed the last piece of pizza and Dean poured the dregs of the beer into his glass and swallowed it down before he grabbed the angel's shoulder and hauled him out of the restaurant.

* * *

**Present:**

Dean had to give Castiel props, he was able to keep his face impassive while Dean's alcohol laden vomit landed on his bare body. He stayed frozen until Dean was finished throwing up and flopped down on the bed, his stomach feeling better than it had when he had woken up. A small moan escaped Dean's lips and he rested his hand on his bare stomach, trying to calm the urge to expel the contents of his stomach again.

"What happened?" Dean asked, closing his eyes to block out the light which was causing his headache to thrum with intensity.

"You just vomited on me." Castiel replied and Dean glanced at him, seeing a flash of disgust in his eyes and the tightened frown. It was very unlike the face Dean had seen when he had rolled over. If he didn't know any better, Dean would have said Castiel looked relaxed and as if he had been enjoying Dean's warm body backed against him. Now Dean wouldn't be surprised if the angel wanted to get as far away as possible from him.

"No. L-last night." The hunter tried to clarify, keeping his tone down as he heard a muffled moan from the other bed. Sam must have drank in excess last night as well. Usually at this hour of the morning, his younger brother was up and either out running or searching for another hunt. Only when he was hurt or hung over did Sam miss his morning run and listening to the birds screaming at the rising sun.

Castiel sat up, lips pursing as he saw the mess on his chest, some of it gravitating to pool down his stomach and onto his lap. "You over indulged in the quantity of alcohol last night." The angel stated this as if it was the most obvious answer. But Dean wanted to know more, his last memory was the slight buzz he had left the restaurant with. Perhaps they walked to a bar or something, but his memory was faulting him and for all he knew they could have gone to the moon in a paper-air balloon. Instead, Dean mimicked Castiel's movement and sat up, but that brought a lurch of his stomach and he doubled over, ready to throw up over the side of the bed and save Castiel this time.

A light brush of fingers passed over his flushed and sweaty forehead and Dean saw the toilet swimming before his eyes as he threw up the rest of his stomach's contents into the water. A cold had ghosted over the skin on his back, leaving a tingling and calming sensation behind him. Dean knew it was Castiel, and he enjoyed the action. It was friendly, comforting, but something intimate. The hunter would have told him to stop, but his mouth was currently occupied with seeing what he had ordered for liquor the previous night.

When he was done, Dean wiped his hand across his mouth as sat on his heels, feeling his knees ache from the tile floor. Castiel moved to rest on the edge of the shower, the vomit drying to his skin. It was then that Dean realized that both of the beings in the room were only wearing their boxers. He glanced over at Castiel, taking in his pale skin and toned body. He had a body that was strong, Dean could see that, plus he knew the power that the angel wielded. There were the faint lines of abdomen muscles and his bicep was flexed due to the position Castiel was resting it in, placing his chin on the palm of his hand, while the other hand continued to rub circles on his back.

Dean shrugged the hand off and went to stand, only having another bought of nausea roll over him, causing him to drop back to the floor in front of the toilet.

"I'm just gonna..." Castiel nodded at Dean's words, understanding that he was saying he was going to stay within a two foot radius of the toilet. "You should..." Dean started, motioning to his bare chest to tell Castiel that he still had a mess to clean up.

The angel nodded, displeasure rolling across his featured as he stood and turned the water on in the shower.

"Whoa, whoa... What are you doing?" Dean clamored, his eyes wide as the angel reached into the shower to test the water temperature.

"Cleaning up your mess. I'm always cleaning up your mess, so what's one more?" Castiel growled, his third time talking that morning and Dean noticed the changes from the usual way Castiel's voice sounded. His voice was lower, the gravel in his voice gruffer from what, Dean could only assume, the intake of alcohol last night. It was dead, almost emotionless, which clashed with the miniscule expressions that were flashing across his face in rapid succession.

"You're not always cleaning up my messes. I can take care of them myself." Dean interjected weakly, resting his head against the slightly yellowed porcelain.

Dean knew he would be dead already if Castiel's glare alone could smite things, the blue eyes gazing at him with righteous indignation and fury. Instead of killing him with a look, Castiel parted his lips and bared his teeth. "Dean, you are like an insolent little child who cannot take care of themselves. Instead, they expect someone else to do everything for you. To fix everything when you charge through and break it. You assume someone else will take care of the aftermath all that matters is that you achieved your goal." Castiel growled out, steam billowing around them.

Dean closed his eyes, not wanting to meet the bright blue gaze. Deep inside he knew Castiel was right, that he was brash and irresponsible, he jumped into things with out thinking of the repercussions. But he would never admit that to the mostly naked angel staring at him. To Dean, as long as everything turned out on the positive side in the end it was fine with him. He didn't care who did what. Although it seemed that Castiel was growing angry about his role as a caretaker. And he had a right to.

Even with his eyes closed, Dean could feel the angel's eyes boring into his skull. "Fine." Dean snapped back, "Then stop hanging around with us."

"Then who would babysit you? I am an angel of the Lord. Not your mother." Castiel's cold, deep voice replied.

There was movement and Dean heard the shower curtain being pulled back and then moved forward. Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel's boxers discarded in a heap in the corner. "If angel's actually did their jobs then I would still have a mother and a normal life. You guys just gotta let everything fall to Hell before you'll help." A dry chuckle rasped out of Dean's parched mouth and he licked his lips. "Even I fell to Hell."

There was silence on the other side of the curtain before a low snarl issued from Castiel's lips. "We did what we were told to do. It was long ago written about things that would pass, and then I went and sacrificed everything for you and look where I have ended up. Yes. Sacrifice. You sell your soul for your brother who you can't stand to have dead, only to leave your brother a year later. There are consequences to each one of your actions, Dean, wether you want to admit it or not."

"Is this about your pissing match with Raphael? Because you know, that's your problem, buddy. Not mine. I didn't start that."

The reply was too quick, as if Castiel had thought about it his whole life. "You started everything the day you were born and the abomination of a brother followed you."

Dean's face flushed, anger brewing at the angel standing on the other side of the curtain. Suddenly, he wanted to pummel into Castiel, cause him pain for insulting his brother and claiming that they were nothing more than playthings for the higher powers. Dean stood, pain and sickness forgotten, and yanked back the curtain, pushing Castiel up against the tiled wall. "Fuck you. " The words were filled with venom as he stared into Castiel blue eyes, water dripping from his dark hair and down his body. "You're just upset that you cannot control me. You can't control the world. I've got news for you Castiel, we have free fucking will. And if you want that- then you need to fight for it."

With a growl, he let his anger overtake him and raised his hand, curling it into a fist as he sent it forward, aiming for Castiel's jaw, cheek, shoulder, anywhere he could reach. Castiel brought his hand up and gently caught Dean's fist with his palm, wrapping his fingers around his hand in order to stop the human from landing a punch. The movement was too gentle for someone who was angry, it was more of a gesture of someone who did not want to see their friend get hurt.

The only noise that could be heard was the water hitting the side of the showers and bare skin. The two beings stared at each other, blue meeting green in a duel, seeing who would back down first. Realization suddenly dawned in Castiel eyes and his stiff shoulders softened as he nodded. "I apologize Dean, I over reacted. What I said was... it was incorrect."

"Damn right you did." Dean muttered, relaxing as well, letting his hands slide from the shoulder of the angel, trailing down his wet skin. "I... I shouldn't have thrown up on you. I guess that's what set us off." Dean chuckled, attempting a weak smile which the other did not return. He suddenly felt rather self conscious, leaning into the shower with a naked man who was staring at him without a care in the world that he was exposed. Dean focused on Castiel's chest and saw that most of the vomit was gone but a few dried flakes still clung. "Here... I'll clean up my mess, how's that?" Dean asked, reaching for a towel.

Castiel's eyes followed him curiously, as Dean wet the white towel with warm water and began to lightly scrub the area he had defiled. Memories flashed back to him of when Castiel had asked him to cut the sigil in his chest, knowing it was the only way for Sam and Dean to get in and rescue their brother. Castiel had risked his life for them multiple times, never asking for anything in return. He always did what he could to help the Winchesters, but it did always seem to entail keeping them safe and fixing the problems they were in. It made Dean realize that most of the times he saw Castiel was when they needed help. Never had they just sat and watched television or thrown back a beer or two. Castiel may be his friend, but it seemed as if he was just a hunting partner.

And something in him told him to change that. That he wanted something more than a hunting partner. He wanted his friend to actually be a friend. Something away from hunting. Dean smiled to himself because he knew that would never happen. Hunting was his whole life and there would never be anything simple, never be anything apart from that.

Dean glanced up to see Castiel's eyes closed and his head leaning against the wall of the stall, his breathing controlled and soft under Dean's fingers. Once he made sure the angel was clean he cleared his throat and tossed the cloth into the hamper, shaking off his arm that was wet from the spray of the shower head.

"There, all done." Dean murmured, "I cleaned up a mess. I'm gonna crawl back in bed." Castiel nodded as Dean turned, exiting the bathroom and went to the bed that they had vacated. He crawled underneath the covers and pulled them over himself so that he was deeply burrowed in them. He missed the warmth from that morning but was slightly confused as to how why the angel was in the bed with him.

Castiel exited the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing only his boxers and Dean was thankful his eyes hadn't sunk any lower that Castiel's navel when they were arguing in the bathroom or he would be thinking of something else entirely. Instead the angel stood there awkwardly as if debating on where to go. He glanced at Dean before he headed for the corner to stand in his usual place staring off at nothing, but still vigilant.

Dean patted the bed next to him and lifted the covers. "Come on, I don't want you staring at me while I sleep." Castiel appeared next to the bed and crawled in, making sure to keep his space between himself and Dean. The bed was warmer, but they were not touching and that was perfectly fine with the hunter. "Where did your clothes go?"

Castiel turned his gaze on him and Dean looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes. "You undressed me last night. Do you not remember?""

Dean's face turned red and he sputtered, "I-I undressed you?"

"Yes, but not our undergarments because, penises, as you put it, are 'yucky'. You told me I could not sleep with you clothed. I question why I would sleep with you at all, but you were very persuasive." Castiel tilted his head. "Do you not remember?"

"No. No I don't-" And then it all came flooding back to him.

* * *

**Previous night:**

Dean was holding onto one of Castiel's arm while Sam was being supported by the other. The angel didn't seemed to be annoyed by the antics that were going on between the brothers, a small smile curled on his lips as he sat Sam at the edge of his bed and turned to place Dean down on his. Sam swayed and then fell to his side, a small giggle escaping his lips.

"Caas, why'd we have to go?" Sam whined, struggling to righten himself.

"Because, as humans, you are overly intoxicated and I fear for you livers and safety." Castiel replied, turning as Sam fumbled with the button on his jeans. "It would be best if you retired for the night.

Sam started to giggle again, "Dean, you have lipstick on you."

Dean glanced up in a daze and rubbed his fingers over his lips and pulled them away, seeing the red color on them. A small smile broke across his lips. "Aww yeah, I got lucky."

Castiel sighed, barely catching Sam's jeans as they were flung at him. He folded them and placed them on top of Sam's duffel bag. "You did not get lucky. You kissed a woman who then promptly passed out on the floor because she was highly inebriated."

"Oh." Dean murmured, placing one hand on his bed to steady himself before he looked at Castiel and smiled. "Are you drunk, Cas?"

The angel shook his head before he pulled the sheets over Sam, ushering him into the bed properly. "No, it appears I am not."

"Thanks Cas. You're like mama Cas. But you're short, and an angel, with stubble." Sam reached up to touch Castiel's scruff but before he could, the angel grabbed Sam's wrist and put it back under the covers

"Just cleaning up after you two." Castiel growled, but it was light and held no anger or accusations.

Sam shrugged and rolled onto his side before Castiel moved and sat next to Dean on his bed. Dean gravitated towards the sinking in the bed and leaned heavily against the angel's side. The man could see the hope in Castiel's eyes that Sam had fallen asleep, apparently, Castiel had no desire to deal with the younger brother anymore but then the voice piped up again. "Dean..." Sam laughed, sounding as if he had the best drunken plan in the world. "You should kiss Cas."

The angel's eyes widened as Dean turned towards him, grinning with a stupid smile on his face. "Want some lipstick Cas? You'd look good in red." He giggled, leaning forward, wavering slightly in his stupor.

The angel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and pushed him away, causing the human to pout in frustration. "Caaas." Dean pleaded, his pupils slightly dilated in arousal.

"You're drunk, Dean. Just... go to bed."

In his intoxicated state Dean took the rejection hard. He couldn't get a girl and even his best friend turned him down. Weren't best friends automatically put on the fuck buddy list? He sighed, running a sluggish hand through his hair before he stood, pushing his jeans off his hips and pulling his shirt over his head. It got caught on one arm and he thrashed around until he felt Castiel's cold hands helping him get it off. The angel picked the jeans up off the floor and folded the articles of clothing and placed them in a neat pile on top of Dean's duffel bag. Dean followed Castiel and when the angel turned, Dean was inches from the other body. With clumsy fingers Dean began to unbutton Castiel's shirt. Instead of stopping him Castiel just watched him with wary eyes.

"You're sleeping with me tonight." Dean's rough, husky voice growled at him.

"Dean..." Castiel began, trying to sway his decision.

"No. You will not refuse me this." Dean growled, pushing off Castiel's three layers and then pulling the shite t-shirt off over his head. Castiel had to mostly do it himself due to fact that Dean forgot what limb when in which hole. As the angel was pulling off his shirt Dean's fingers went to Castiel's pants and the soldier jumped back in surprise.

Sam laughed from the bed and Castiel' wide eyes surveyed Dean, the blue eyes glancing up and down the man's body, glowing in the soft light from the street lamps. Even in his drunken state, Dean was unable to be embarrassed by an angel of the Lord checking him out. Castiel seemed to understand where Dean's motions were leading to and the tense shoulders relaxed slightly. He took this as a good sign.

The hunter could feel his heart beating fast but he wanted Castiel to be pressed up against him, for bare skin to be pressing bare skin.

"Cas, don't deny me this. I want to be close to someone tonight." As dean approached again, Castiel stayed still, letting the human's fingers undo his pants and push them down, falling to the floor. Castiel slipped out of his shoes and socks and stepped out of the pants.

"No junk out, 'kay? Dicks are yucky." Dean reached out and ran a hand over Castiel's shoulder. "But I think I'd like your dick. But no other guys. Just yours. I don't know, I think I'd like it. Locker room style. You know. Whip it out, whip it real good."

"Dean, you're babbling nonsense." Castiel murmured, hearing Sam's soft snores echoing lightly around the room.

Dean just shrugged and grabbed Castiel's hand, leading him to the bed and pulling up the blankets, crawling underneath them while still holding the angels hand. He was slightly aware that he was pulling Castiel along in a jerkily manor, but the angel smoothly slid into the bed and lay on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling and face unreadable to Dean in his drunken state.

"Just trust me, Cas." The rough voice whispered as he shifted himself closer to Castiel, resting his head the being's shoulder, turning his head slightly to give the skin a light kiss. It felt soft and smooth underneath his clumsy lips, relishing every moment of contact.

"I do, Dean." Castiel replied quietly as Dean closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Present:**

"Fuck..." Dean muttered, closing his eyes with embarrassment. He had undressed Castiel. Much less, he had told him that he might like his penis. That was awkward enough since Dean didn't like anyone else penis except his own. Hie knew his subconscious probably trying to tell Castiel something, but whatever it was passed through his lips in a garbled mess due to the alcohol. But then there was the whole impression that since Castiel is a very good friend that automatically put him into friends with benefits category if needed. To Dean that only applied to women. Only. But last night it seemed that his body had wanted Castiel and there was justification to it. And Sam's suggestion. God damn it.

Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel's long fingers playing with the edge of the blanket, his attention seemed to be focused on the object and oblivious to the conflict going on in his bed partner's head. Skin flexed and rippled over the muscles that flowed at Castiel's movements. His hair was slightly flat on the side he had laid on, but the other side stuck up in a messy bed head. Dean couldn't help but appreciate what he was seeing while Castiel's attention was somewhere else completely. The angel's face was a poise of concentration, and Dean reached over to touch Castiel's shoulder.

The angel started, hands dropping the blanket and eyes focusing on the human. "You okay?"

"Yes... I was just listening." Castiel's deep voice rumbled as he shifted onto his side, propping his head up with the palm of his hand. The human knew he could ask a million questions about what Castiel could have been listening, but he knew that the angel probably had the ability to listen to a few hundred things at once. Although, he was pretty sure Castiel was listening to the 'angel radio'. Sam and him and dubbed it that name when they met Anna.

There was silence that passed between them and Dean pulled his hand away from Castiel's shoulder, missing the warmth that issued from the the bare skin. It took every ounce of resistance he had not to burrow back into bed and rest his body against Castiel, entwining their legs and slipping back into a blissful sleep.

One thing would have hinder his comfortability in the first place, the ache that ran through his body. It confused his as to what could have happened to put each of his muscles in a state of disarray, protesting at contact and movement, especially his buttocks.

"Cas, could you... you know? Heal me?" Dean asked, closing his eyes as a bought of pain washed from behind his eyes. It would not be a pleasant day if Castiel let the hurt continue, but Dean assumed that he would not mind using some of his powers to help the Winchesters deal with the mistake they had made last night.

When the pain subsided, Dean opened his eyes to see a ghost of a smile on Castiel's lips. "Do you not think this is punishment enough for last nights adventures?"

A soft groan escaped Dean's lips as he flopped down onto his pillow, eliciting a small hiss of pain. He had no reply to Castiel, feeling like he had been penalized for having a good time. Obviously, the angel needed to get out more and find a successful way of relaxing. Alcohol was probably not the answers for him, since last time Dean had seen the angel drunk he was irritable and rude. Granted, watching Castiel try to rub away a hangover was rather funny due to the fact that it was probably a large one from what Dean had gleamed was a immense quantity of alcohol that had been induced.

Along with the throb from his head for moving too fast a twinge of pain radiated from his buttocks.

Suddenly, Dean sat bolt upright, ignoring the protest from his body and his eyes shot open, green orbs turning to stare at Castiel who had tilted his head at Dean's violent reaction. "Did we... did we fuck?" Confusion crossed Castiel's face and he reached out and pressed a light finger to the bare skin of Dean's arm. It was a common touch and Dean knew he was evaluating the human's body. Seeing where the pain was coming from. Trying to make a lighter note of the situation Dean tried to laugh, but all that came out was a strangled moan. "'Cause you know, I always thought I'd be top."

Castiel pulled his hand away and shook his head. "We did not fornicate. Last night you slipped on a patch of black ice and fell rather hard, bruising your tailbone. Afterwards, you would not walk unless I was holding your hand. You sang a rather boisterous version of 'I Wanna Hold your Hand' and swung our arms in a way that reminded me of primates."

"What about kissing? I remember lips, they were soft and gentle." Dean muttered, the memory of when he woke up appearing.

"The only person you kissed last night was a rather intoxicated woman and I feared I would need to intervene because of her impaired judgement, but she fell unconscious when you began to discuss what a 'big boy' you are."

* * *

**Previous night:**

"Another beer for my friend here!" Dean yelled loudly across the bar at the dark haired beauty serving the customers that were gathered around the bar table. His arm hung loosely around Castiel's shoulder and he swayed slightly when he was talking, as if he could only focus on one thing at a time. Sam's messed up hair hovered above the other patrons as he staggered over to them, a small smile on his face as a blonde girl under his arm helped steady his balance.

"Dean, this is awesome! Why don't we relax more often?" Sam talked close to his brother's ear even though his volume was rather loud. Castiel turned to look around so Dean tapped him on the shoulder when his beer arrived.

"Cas." Dean said, sloppily picking up the beer and handing it to the angel. Castiel had to react fast since Dean almost let the bottle slip from him fingers. "I know, right. Like, man, I haven't had this much fun in ages. I'm with the two people I care most about in the world and we're just being normal. Not hunting things, moving from motel to motel, eating crappy food." Dean pulled his arm off Castiel's shoulder, grazing the back of his neck on the way by. As he turned he noticed the petite, blonde girl under Sam's arm. She had heavy eyeliner and was wearing a low cut, tight dress that showed off her impressive cleavage. "Why, hello, who is this?"

"Tianna." The girl replied, holding out her hand and Dean took it, pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand.

Tianna giggled, withdrawing her hand from Dean's grasp and glanced up at Sam, before looking back at the older brother. "Tianna, lovely name for a lovely girl."

Sam reached out and smacked the back of his brother's head lightly, almost sending him reeling into a bar stool. "Get your own." Sam chuckled, bringing up the bottle of his beer to his lips and taking a rather large sip.

Dean straightened himself up and glanced around the bar. "Well, maybe I will. Just means you gotta go to your girls place tonight. We are so not fucking in the same room."

"You're disgusting." Sam replied, moving to an unoccupied stool while Dean made his way over to a brown haired, gray eyed girl leaning against a booth.

Her long hair was braided in an elaborate twist, handing over her left shoulder. She was dressed in jeans and a fancy top that seemed to catch the light when she turned. "Sparkly..." Dean murmured, entranced by the way the light flashed and danced on her breasts. Carefully, the man approached her, leaning against the opposite booth, she smiled at his approach.

"Dean Winchester." He said with a small smile, holding out his hand.

She took it and shook it with a rather strong grip. "Carly Bousewan."

The conversation passed in a blur of drunkenness and Dean couldn't remember what they had exactly talked about. He was sure she was a student in psychology and was attending UIC and graduating that May. Carly had come to this bar because if was her friends birthday, unfortunately, her friend was out in the alley having sexual relations with a man she had just met in the bar. Dean curiously wondered if perhaps her friend was Tianna and that his brother was getting lucky. Dean had pulled the old, rich investment banker lie who was often alone due to his commitment to work and the fear that a woman might be using him for his money.

Carly shook her head at that comment, leaning in closer to Dean. "What atrocious woman would just use a man for his money. It must be horrible being so alone all the time. I bet you'd want to wake up with someone in the bed next to you in the morning."

"Of course." Dean lied, "Isn't that want everyone wants?"

He leaned in to kiss her, his lips lightly rubbing against hers until she reciprocated and pushed back, sealing the kiss with her own lips and closing the distance between them. Dean wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her tight against him. That elicited a gasp from the woman and he took advantage of her open mouth to carefully run his tongue along her lower lip and then slide into her mouth. Her tongue battled for dominance for a few seconds before she submitted to him, relaxing her body against his.

Although something seemed wrong with the kiss. It had no passion and for Dean, it lacked desire. This was just a woman to which he had no connections with and it made it difficult to continue kissing her when he found his libido was not up to speed. He pulled away, clearing his throat and whipping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You... you know. I've got a rather big boy down there... if you know what I mean." Dean laughed, motioning down towards his groin. "I'm sure I could satisfy whatever urges you have tonight." He winked, hoping that his arousal for the woman in front of him would appear soon.

The woman stepped forward and practically purred in his ear. "Oh, I'm sure you could." Carly leaned against him and Dean soon found her whole weight pressing against him.

"Carly?" Dean questioned, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her body back to see her eyes closed and her breathing slow. "Fuck." She had drank too much alcohol and tipped herself over the edge, blacking out.

As gently as he could, which failed due to the fact he was rather clumsy drunk, Dean placed Carly into the booth seat, making sure she was sitting comfortably, hoping her friend would return soon. A hand on his shoulder caused Dean to spin around in surprise, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"It is time to return to the motel." A deep voice rumbled and it took Dean a few seconds to focus on the figure in front of him.

"Cas!" Dean exclaimed in surprise, seeing his brother on the other side, wavering dangerously. "Must we go now?"

"Yes." The angel replied, glancing over and placing a hand on Sam's back to steady him. "You motor skills are impaired and I fear that if we delay the return to the motel any longer than either you or Sam will succeed in hurting yourselves."

Dean just shrugged, following the tail end of the trench coat as it lead the way out of the bar. Castiel held the door open for them, helping them down the step to the sidewalk. They began the short walk to their motel, having chosen a bar close so they could drop off the Impala and make their way back themselves. The air was brisk and fog stemmed out of their mouths at their breath, a light snow crunching under their feet as they walked, or well, two of them weaving. Dean's hands trailed along the ridge of snow built up on the side of the walk from shoveling, feeling the chill creeping up his damp fingers.

An idea formed and he grabbed a handful of snow, forming it into an uneven ball as he walked, focusing completely on the task. When the snowball was up to his drunken standards Dean gazed at the back of Castiel's head, and brought his arm back. Just as he was about to release the ground disappeared from underneath him, his body falling to the earth and his arm letting the snow go in a hap-hazard direction.

A yelp of surprise came from, who only Dean could assume, was Sam and a heavy grunt left his mouth as the back of his body hitting the ground, his ass taking most of the shock. He laid on his back, his legs splayed out on the ground, looking up at the clear night sky and seeing the array of stars that littered the sky. Castiel's and Sam's face appeared, blocking out the darkness.

"Are you okay?" Castiel asked, holding out his hand to help Dean up.

Dean took the hand and pulled himself up, but when Castiel tried to withdraw his limb, he wouldn't let go. "No. Mine now. I don't want to fall again."

"You're a jerk, you know that?" Sam accused and Dean turned, seeing clumps of snow melting in Sam's already messy hair.

Dean turned, pulling Castiel along by his hand and muttered, "bitch." They walked in silence before Dean began to sing as loud as he could. He was off key and the words were almost so slurred that they couldn't be made out. But he was happy and he wanted everyone to know it. "I wanna hold your ha-aa-a-and, I wanna hold you hand."

* * *

**Present:**

"Well... it's true." Dean counter argued. "I do have a big boy."

Castiel just stared at him and shook his head ever so slightly, Dean just barely caught it. "You do not have to prove anything to me."

Dean knew that and it took a lot of pressure off of him. Sam expected him to be the big brother, to always be reliable and to make sure everything was safe and happy in the end. Castiel just expected Dean to be himself. With all his flaws and his imperfections. Castiel seemed to be able to look right past them and see the true man he was inside. The angel had rescued him from the depth of Hell, seen him at his worst and still thought he was a beautiful human being. Still thought he was worth saving and creating new again. Someone who did not deserve everything that was happening to him. It was more than that, though, Castiel cared for him in his own little way. He might not show it, but it was true none-the-less.

"Com'ere." Dean muttered, opening his arms and watching as Castiel hesitantly scooted across the bed and nestled himself into Dean's side. It was a few seconds before the supernatural being relaxed and Dean wrapped his arms around the angel, feeling Castiel's hair tickling his lips. Their legs became tangled together as Castiel shifted further onto his side in order to press more of his body against Dean. "I'd so be top."

"Don't count on it." Catiel's voice rumbled, a joking tone playing in the chords, vibrating across Dean's chest.

"We'll see." A small smile passed across Dean's face as he drifted off to sleep at the feeling of Castiel tracing designs across the muscles of his chest.

* * *

** A/N:** Wow, Dean. Why'd you say that? Originally I was going to have them going to the her for their hunt in this chapter as well, but then I realized it would be wicked long.

Thank you **StoryWriterOfAll-101**, **SkankyAmber**,** XClaire BearX**,** Shavra**,** Celphius**,** snowin' you**,** My Dean Love**, **Whateva876 **(see! see!), **FireChildSlytherin5**, **aishaduh**, and **perry123** for reviewing!

I figured... why should Sam be the only one bald... so as a prize you each get a lock of Castiel's hair as well. And now I need to run before he smites me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG-13.  
**Warning:** Sexual Content and Language.

**A/N: **Arr, thar be a short chaptah ahead. Ohmygosh! If anyone reviews can it be in pirate talk? Unless that's too difficult... since I'm unable to talk like a pirate.

I honestly don't know where my brain was during this chapter, sorry =] And yeah, I know Dean also got knocked out in my other story... but idk... yeah.

Here be a chapter. Next post will be up next Thursday. Enjoy reading this chapter. Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Eight

Dean woke with a start when the loud noise of a chair toppling over reached him. He laid there, on his stomach, his eyes wide open and his hand reaching for the knife under his pillow.

"Sorry, sorry." A muttered voice reached his ears and he relaxed when he realized it it was from his brother. Dean rolled over, and stretched, a small groan leaving his mouth at the enjoyment of his tense muscles being flexed.

The door to the bathroom shut and Dean glanced over, wondering how Sam was doing with his hangover. It was then that Dean noticed there was a person missing from their trio, the same person who was in his bed with him that morning. Just to double check that his hungover mind wasn't playing tricks on his, Dean smoothed the side that Castiel had been laying on with his hand, flattening the rumpled sheets that proved that someone had actually been there that night. The feeling of fingers ghosting across his skin caused a small shiver to run up his spine. He couldn't deny that the closeness felt good, it was comfortable and made him feel wanted, protected, and comforted at the same time. It wasn't something Dean was used to, but Castiel being in the same bed with him, holding him through his drunken stupor and even being with him after that was something he had never experienced before. Even when he held his lovers in his arms, knowing he would have to leave them in a few hours, he had never experienced that.

He wanted it. He wanted more of it.

And truth be told. It scared him at the same time.

Dean groggily sat up, holding his head with one hand as a pounding headache resurfaced behind his eyes. It was so bad that he almost threw up again and assumed that was what Sam was doing right now, probably having a similar headache as his. Once he was sure he could open his eyes again, Dean glanced around, not seeing the angel in the room either. Just making sure Dean called out the angel's name. "Cas?"

It was a few seconds until he heard the soft flutter of wings. Castiel appeared near the table, picking up the chair Sam had knocked over. Dean could swear he saw blood on the angel's hands before they became busy with the chair. Once he stilled, his hands were clean

"Dean." Castiel answered, turning to see the man sitting in the chair. "How does your head feel?"

Dean slowly shook his head so he wouldn't affect his motor cortex. "Rather unpleasant." It almost seemed like a small smile ghosted across the angel's face as he moved forward and placed two fingers on the man's forehead. Dean could feel the grace flowing into him, the tingling sensation flowing through his body and soothing anywhere he hurt. Once it's task was complete the tingling sensation left, as if it was flowing back into Castiel. "Thanks..." Dean breathed, closing his eyes and enjoying that his body no longer threatened to cause him immense discomfort. "Where'd you go?" He asked, opened his eyes and matching the blue stare.

Castiel's body almost seemed to freeze before his eyes slid away from Dean's to look over his left shoulder. "I had business to attend to."

"What business?" Dean asked, rubbing his hand through his short, blond hair and moving to the edge of the bed in order to be closer to the angel.

It almost seemed as if Castiel was going to tell Dean but then Sam came out of the bathroom, his face pale and hair hanging limply in front of his face. The angel closed his parted lips and moved over to Sam who groaned as his eyes tracked the sudden movement. He held two fingers up to Sam's forehead and the younger man seemed to sag into the touch. "I hope you have learned your lesson." Castiel's deep voice rumbled as he pulled away from Sam and glanced at the two men. "The after effects of alcohol are rather displeasing."

Sam and Dean mumbled in agreement as they began to get ready for the day ahead.

* * *

The three of them stood in front of the first bar, glancing at the flashing neon signs and the writhing mob of people dancing inside the building. The music vibrated and the bass could be heard through the thin walls and out onto the street, engulfing the trio. It wasn't like a normal bar the Winchester would go to hustle pool and order cheep beer. This place was fancy, though it still had the lingering smell of sweat and sex.

The older Winchester cleared his throat and tried to keep his manliness in check as he reached for Castiel's hand. If they were going to attempt to pull this off they would at least need to keep up appearances. But once his fingers touched the side of Castiels palm the angel's hand shied away. Dean glanced up at the angel who was staring at Dean's hand intently.

"For fuck's sake, Cas." Dean growled, reaching over and abrasively grabbed Castiel's hand, roughly entwining their fingers.

He squeezed Castiel's hand once, feeling the warm palm against his and he tried not to think about it as he dragged the resisting angel into the bar. Sam would follow in a few minutes, wanting to make it seem less conspicuous. The building was warm because of the people crowded inside, and there was little room to travel around in. Dean ended up pulling Castiel close to him so they could wind through the dancing bodies to the bar. Two empty stools stood next to each other at the bar counter and he claimed them, pushing Castiel gently to make him sit in one while Dean took the other vacated seat, glancing over the people.

Dean leaned close, placing his hand on Castiel's knee and yelling into the angels ear over the music. "So now how do we find the shapeshifter?"

Castiel mimicked the position, his lips brushing against Dean's earlobe causing the skin to tingle. "I thought you and Sam had figured that out." Dean snorted and Castiel pulled away slightly confused.

"Well, unless we decide to cut everyone with a silver knife then we're slightly lost." Dean murmured. They had chosen this bar first since it seemed to be the closest to the radius the shapeshiter was keeping. Dean saw Castiel's brow furrowed and realized that the angel actually thought that was the plan. "We're not doing that, Cas."

"Oh." Castiel replied, placing his hand on Dean's knee, his thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of Dean' leg, on top of his jeans. There was slight panic hidden behind the blue eyes and Dean realized that it was the same look as when he had brought Castiel to the brothel and the thumb rubbing must be a small signs of nerves. "I can look at people's souls. Not fully, but a small glimpse."

Now it was Dean's turn to look confused. "Don't you have to put your hand inside someone to figure that out?"

Someone's hand touched Castiel's back and he hunched forward some more, delving deeper into Dean's personal space. "No, that's so I can read the soul. This type is seeing what creature a being is, I can tell what sin's they've committed, occasionally I can see feelings and emotions as well."

That peaked Dean's interest. "Well, what do you see when you glimpse mine?"

Castiel tilted his head, blue eyes seeming to bore into Dean. "You're a human. Your soul is pure and bright. The righteous man." Castiel paused, his eyes widening slightly as if there was something else he had seen before turning away to glance through the crowd again. "That's all I see."

"Really?" Dean asked, a small smile playing on his lips at the angel claiming he had a pure soul. Castiel nodded, not returning his gaze to his companion. "Come on." Dean muttered, grabbing Castiel's hand off his denim-clad knee and pulling him out to the dance floor. "We'll need to move around to see all the people here." With wide eyes, Castiel followed Dean onto the dace floor standing awkwardly when the man stopped and turned to face him. Dean tried to push away his awkwardness of initiating dancing with and angel of the Lord. He pulled Castiel up against him, feeling the stiffness in the angel's shoulders as he grabbed his hips. "Put your arms around my neck." Dean whispered in Castiel's ear and chuckled when hesitant arms did what he asked. He glanced down to see confusion flitting across the angels' face as he stared up the few inches of height difference between them.

They just stood there for a few moments as Castiel got comfortable in Dean's arms and he got over his masculinity and tried to allow himself to enjoy the feeling of Castiel in his arms. It was nice, the feeling of a firm body pressed up against his. It was comfortable and Dean knew he could get used to his. The two swayed gently as Dean buried his face into Castiel's neck, inhaling the soft scent of nature that lingered on the angel's neck. It wasn't dancing like the people around them were, lewd acts and something almost akin to fornication of the floor, but to them, it was enough, it was all they needed and wanted at the moment. Dean knew Castiel was glancing around trying to see people's souls. But after some time, the angel seemed to relax against him, melting into his touch.

When that happened Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist, pulling his closer against him and he felt a small gasp of air hit the side of his neck as they pressed together. A soft groan left Dean's lips at the contact, muffled into the angels skin, at the pressure against him, especially against his groin.

On an instinct, Dean pushed back against the body causing him to groan, pressing his lips against the angel's skin.

"Hey." A voice piped up and in surprise, Castiel accidentally bucked his hips against Dean, causing another moan to leave Dean's lips, desperately trying to keep his body in check, not wanting an unwanted erection to form and cause him embarrassment. They glanced over to see Sam standing close to their proximity, making sure to glance anywhere but at the two men in front of him. "You guys seem.. to be," he cleared his throat, "playing your part very well."

Dean shrugged, not wanting the conversation to continue. "What have you found out?" Dean asked his brother, taking a step back from Castiel but missing the warmth and the presence against him.

Sam shrugged, finally meeting Dean's eyes as he shook his head. "Nothing so far. I mean, I feel like we're searching for a needle in a haystack."

"No, Sam, we're searching for a shapeshifter in a bar full of people." Castiel corrected the younger Winchester, glancing over at Dean for confirmation.

"Yeah, exactly, Cas." Dean chuckled, "have you found anything?"

Castiel shook his head in a similar manor as Sam and Dean couldn't help but wonder if it was a trait the angel had picked up from exposure to them. "I've been looking, but I was occupied."

Dean felt a light flush rise to his cheeks at the comment and knew the dim lights of the bar and the warmth would easily cover up how flustered he was about what had conspired between them. "I'm gonna go get us drinks."

As Dean moved to pass Sam his younger brother stopped him with a light hand on his shoulder. "I think we should split up, Dean."

"Yeah, fine, whatever. Just let me get a beer, at least."

Sam agreed, "we'll all meet back by the bar in like.. ten minutes." Dean nodded and the three of them went off in different directions.

Through the whirling and twisting bodies, Dean made his way to the bar feeling a few people press up against him in a silent invitation to dance. But Dean was focused on the bar, desperate for alcohol. He could still feel the pressure of Castiel against him, feel where the angel's body had touched his own. To an outsider what they were doing would have looked purely sexual, but there was something else going on as well, something underneath the skin, completely emotional. It seemed that somewhere something had shifted in Dean, something about Castiel and it was striving to get to the surface. The change had happened since the witch had cursed him, and Dean was struggling to keep up and figure out what had happened.

Upon reaching the bar, Dean flagged down the bar tender, a petite woman dressed in black jeans and a black tank top with her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her auburn eyes surveyed him, her lips pursed into a pleasant smile as she asked him what he wanted. She was rather pretty with pale skin and high cheekbones, but Dean assumed her looks helped her sell alcohol. Passing a beer across to him, she took his money and turned to help the next customer.

Dean took a quick sip so that the level of alcohol was farther down the glass making it less likely he would spill on some unsuspecting dancer. Turning, he surveyed the area and moved along the wall, watching the people around him. He hadn't a clue what he was looking for, but a silver knife was hiding up his sleeve, ready to drop down in his hand the second he needed it. As Dean continued he could see Castiel making his way through the crowd towards him, eyes searching each person that came withing close proximity to him.

"Cas!" Dean called out, moving swiftly towards the angel with a small smile on his face. Castiel seemed to be more relaxed as if the job that he had been sent out to do had focused him mind away from the crowded area and the uncomfortable acts happening on the dance floor.

"Dean." Castiel replied with a small sigh of relief, seeming to be comforted with the human's presence.

Dean clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder, taking another sip of his beer. "Have you seen Sam yet?" Castiel shook his head and Dean figured they would meet up with Sam at the bar. "Perhaps we're not in the right bar. Did you find anything?"

That's when Castiel's blue eyes turned away from the woman who was dancing against a man and glanced to Dean. "I need to talk to you." Dean felt his wrist being grabbed by the angel as he pulled him along, heading out of the dance room and down a hallway, pushing open the wooden door to the mens bathroom and pulling him in.

"Uh... Cas?" Dean questioned, drinking the last of his beer and placing the cup on the edge of the sink. "What's up?" Castiel locked the door of the bathroom behind him and glanced into the stalls, seeing the room was completely empty. Dean's brows furrowed at his friend's actions.

Suddenly, something felt very wrong. The angel did not move in the same way, his eyes were not as bright, and the power his presence usually held was diminished greatly. The knife slid down from his sleeve and he gripped the handle tightly in the palm of his hand. "Cas?" Dean warily asked again.

"As in water a face reflects the face, so a man's heart reveals the man." The being in front of him recited in a voice so like Castiel, but the enunciations were different, there was emotion and the passive face was betraying too much.

Then the being took a step forward, reaching out towards Dean and he raised his hand, bringing the silver knife down, slashing it across the angel's palm. A startled hiss left Castiel's lips as he pulled back, seeing the wound from the silver knife, gaping on his palm. They stood there frozen and Dean waited, watched, to see if Castiel would heal himself.

Instead, the being glanced up, pulling it's lips back and baring his teeth. "Okay, not Castiel." Dean growled as he raised the knife only to be tackled by the being when it launched itself at him.

The back of Dean's head smashed into the bathroom mirror, feeling it give way underneath the force and shatter. A groan escaped his lips as he crumpled to the floor, hitting the side of his head on the sink and knocking the glass off with his hand. The last think Dean saw was the creature that looked like Castiel standing over him, reaching a hand down to gently stroke the side of his face.

* * *

Thank you **Larkafree**, **Lopithecus**, **We need more lube**, **kc62442**, **Hannio**, **snowin' you**, **aishaduh**, **Perry 123**, **summertimeinla**, **Hopelessly British**, **Guest**, **StoryWriterOfAll-101**, and **FireChildSlytherin5** for reviewing on the last chapter.

For this you get... a ghost pirate ship! Yeah... don't ask me why. But have fun with it! Maybe if you cause enough havoc Sam and Dean (hopefully Castiel soon) will come hunt you down.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, Hardcore M.  
**Warning: **Language and Graphic Torture,

**A/N: M Rating** for this chapter. Please proceed with caution. Honestly. Please. Thanks.

Uhmm... so I guess I got the dates mixed up for this story and another. I apologize. Plus, Damn Sandy messing everything up.

Oh and... don't hate me... please.

Enjoy reading... or not... you know. Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Nine

A sharp pain exploded on the side of Dean's face, harshly jerking him back to reality. His eyes fluttered open, desperately trying to see the blurry figure in front of him. The figure said something, but the words were distorted to Dean's ears, leaving him to blink rapidly and gasp with an open mouth. His throat was parched and his voice was hoarse cutting off his ability to yell for help. Everything seemed to change rapidly, his senses came back to him and he suddenly saw the figure of Castiel clearly, the angel leaning over him, blue eyes staring into his as the angel watched him wake.

"Cas." Dean croaked, his throat grating irritably. Dean tried to raise his hands, only to find them tired to the chair he was sitting in. Instantly, he remembered. He remembered why he had been unconscious, an unsurmountable time passing by before he awoke in the hands of his captor. Whatever time may have passed, Dean could only hope that Sam and the real Castiel had noticed his absence.

Castiel leaned back out of Dean's personal space, a foreign smile on the familiar face. "Nice for you to wake, Winchester." The mouth seemed to hesitate on the name before it was spoken cautiously. Dean struggled against the bindings, feeling the rope cut into his skin as his face warmed from the slap he had received to wake him. "I must admit, I was rather surprised to have the world renown hunter in my grasps." Dean stopped struggling, realizing that the shapeshifter recognized him. This wasn't something the creature had against couples, now it was personal. "Granted, I was never really close with my... brethren... killers and heathens. I suppose I should be thanking you."

Dean couldn't look at the shifter, not wanting to see the familiar eyes and face on some thing else. They may look the same, but it wasn't Castiel. It wasn't the angel. Instead, the hunter glanced around the room, seeing nothing more than a dark and musty sewer room. There seemed to be some blood splashed on the wall, and he couldn't help but cringe at the thought that he was in the same room as where the other people were murdered. Even though his vision was better than when he first regained consciousness, he could not visibly spot anything that would help him get out of this situation. He was totally at the shapeshifter's hands, just waiting for Sam and Castiel to come help him.

"Though, I must say, I do rather like this body." The shapeshifter flicked some dirt of the sleeve of its trench coat before it raised his hand and ran it through the unruly, dark locks. "An angel... who would have guessed. It would be nice to have the power as well. But the memories, the knowledge." The creature chuckled before it glanced over at Dean. "They're amazing. It makes me want to keep this body forever."

Dean's green eyes tracked the movements of the creature carefully, watching as each action seemed to separate the shapeshifter and the true angel. But it was different, there wasn't Castiel in there. Castiel, a celestial form of light and grace that was around millennials before Dean. And then it was then that Dean realized that it didn't matter who Castiel wore on the outside, it was who he was inside that made the difference. What did it matter that the angel was inhabiting a male body, all that matter was what made the angel up, his personality and his grace, that was all Castiel. And Dean realized he appreciated that, it made it seem like Castiel was more his angel.

The shapeshifter seemed to realize that Dean's mind was somewhere else and he leaned into him, placing his hands on Dean's knees. It forced the human and creature to be eye to eye and as he spoke he squeezed his fingers on the side of Dean's knee's. As the pressure increased the human could barely keep from flinching as the fingers left bruises. "Yet you, your short life being only an hour in this angel's life, shine the brightest out of everything. Why is that Dean?"

That wasn't the most praiseworthy thing that had ever been said to Dean, but it came in close to being the first. "Probably because of my round ass." His voice was hoarse and it almost gave way.

More pressure was added to the growing bruises on his knees and Dean assumed the creature had no inclination for sarcasm. "I highly doubt it. But whatever makes you feel better at night." The shapeshifter reached up, lightly letting his fingers run through Dean's hair, causing a painful sensation around where his head had collided with the sink. "So many memories. So many emotions. It may have a cold exterior, but behind the mask there is so much going on." The shapeshifter's lip quirked up in a small smile. "Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean. Pulling the moves on... well, me. Blame it on the witch all you want. Maybe if you had left the angel finish his sentence." It chuckled, letting it's hand drop down from Dean's head to rest lightly on his chest.

There was silence between them as Dean wished he could move away from the invasive touches. It's fingers gently drummed against Dean's chest, mimicking the beat of the human's heart. There was no other noise than the sound of the fingers hitting the shirt and Dean felt him unconsciously shift his body, wanting nothing more than to break the tension that was growing between them.

"If you're gonna kill me, can you at least get it over with."

"Never one for the games, were we, Dean?" The pale pink lips quirked up in another unusual smile, the blue eyes glancing up and down Dean's body. Even the way the creature caused the face to move was foreign, the eyes were duller, the skin seemed to almost have a rosy tint to it as if there was blood actually pumping underneath the skin and the heat of the small room was affect it, small beads of sweat appearing on it's forehead. "But let's be honest, your whole life has just been one game."

That comment left Dean in silence, anger present on his face as he finally broke eye contact with the shapeshifter and glanced down at his hands, seeing his wrists tied to the arm rails, the rope bound tightly by expert hands.

"I'm guessing you're wondering why I'm doing this. They all do. Humans. So predictable." The creature leaned forward so it was speaking into Dean's ear, it's body hovering over Deans. "It's fun. Taking away a person from a loving couple. Leaving the other to stumble through life without their soulmate. Of course, I use the term soulmate loosely. It's all really if you believe in that stuff or not." Dean felt teeth lightly nibbling on his earlobe and he leaned his head away, a small shiver running down his spine. In retaliation the creature bit down on the soft skin smiling when Dean yelped in pain. "But you see, there's a connection with each person, you can tell if their love is real or not. I only choose the people who are real. Let the others wander around with their false love, they're suffering already. You see, the worst thing ever is to have someone find the person they're meant to be with forever, the person they fell in love with, are in love with, and then have them slip through their fingers... gone forever."

The shapeshifter moved away and Dean finally breathed a soft sigh of relief. It was difficult having something that looked exactly like Castiel being so close to him yet knowing it wasn't really the angel. "Why us? We're not in love." Dean finally questioned, his eyes following the others movements as it walked to the table in the corner of the room, even the trench coat seemed to flow differently.

"You and Castiel?" It chuckled, holding up a curved knife and inspected it in the dim light. "Even the angel's idiocy entertains me. I would have expected it from you, but this really is a rare treat." The shapeshifter seemed to be content to leave his explanation at that. The human tool seemed to look odd in the creature's hand, but Dean couldn't help but warily watch the weapon as it approached him. The knife trailed over Dean's t-shirt, and it pushed back the coat from his shoulder with it's hands as it increased pressure on the knife, cutting through the t-shirt. A thin line of pain blossomed on Dean's chest as the shapeshifter made it's first cut through Dean's skin. "Oh, this will be so much fun." The creature continued trailing the knife, pressing at random intervals and slicing through the skin at random depths.

Dean gasped in pain as the creature added pressure, letting the knife cleanly cut through the skin just below his left rib. "Just... just tell me one more thing..." Dean muttered through clenched teeth. He was not expecting the reaction he got when a fist slammed hard into the laceration it had just carved into the human's skin. It forced it open more, tearing deeper into the tissue.

"Did I say you could speak?" The voice was dangerously low, anger and danger tinting the voice. Dean didn't remember closing his eyes, but he opened them, seeing joy dancing behind the blue orbs which were watching him carefully. The shapeshifter tilted his head, so characteristically like Castiel that Dean felt as if his heart had been punched instead of his side. "You want to know why..."

Dean nodded and the shapeshifter straddled his legs, sitting in his lap. The knife trailed precariously down the side of his face. "Are you sure you're a hunter? They seem to be the shoot first, ask later type." A small hiss left Dean's lips as he felt blood dripping down his cheek followed by the sharp sting of the new mark the creature had left on him. "I had a mate."

"Couldn't keep a hold of it?" Dean sarcastically added onto his hanging sentence. Agony passed across his lips as the shapeshifter raise the knife and slash at his mouth.

Pressure followed afterwards as the creature gently prodded at the deep cut he had made, watching with interest as the blood leaked out of the wound and make a red track down the human's chin. "Hush, now. I'm telling you a story." It gave him a chided look, shaking it's head as if Dean was an unruly child that needed to be taught a lesson. "She was beautiful, we loved each other deeply. Yes, even creatures like me can fall in love." It added at the disgusted look on Dean's face. "We spent years together, taking on whatever form we wanted. She was trying to live a normal life, going to college wanting to get a nice job in the city. But we can't really hide who we are. We're monsters, nothing more than the scum of the Earth. I convinced her to run away with me and we lived in a small cabin in the woods. The conditions weren't perfect, but we had each other and when you love someone, really love them, that's all you need."

The knife traveled down from Dean's face and moved down his neck, getting caught in the collar of his shirt. With a quick yank down he cut the material, revealing Dean's chest, littered with cuts and nicks from the knife. The creature dug in deeper as he cut the shirt down Dean's stomach, parting the flesh in a thin line, watching as it spread apart, revealing the red flesh beneath it. "I loved her, I still wake up with fresh memories of the sun shining down on her pale skin." With another sharp tug, the creature cut through the hem, pale hands pushing the shirt to the sides to reveal Dean's torso.

"Just imagine that for a second." The creature continued, pressing his free hand down against the top of Dean's thigh. "Together, with the one you love, you feel like you can live forever. All you need is them because they are your whole world. It's breathtaking and earth-shattering at the same time. You can feel like you can fly but they keep you grounded at the same time. There is nothing like it and it is unmistakeable, you know it when you feel it."

Dean kept quiet, the warm blood from his lips leaking into his mouth. As the pressure from its hand on his thigh increased, so did his desire to buck the creature off of him. But fear kept him still, it kept him hoping and praying that Castiel and Sam would find him soon. The creature raised the blade, trailing it along Dean's nipples, watching as blood trickled off the blade of the knife from the new lacerations he had made. Quickly, it made a downward stroke from Dean's collarbone to the bottom of his sternum causing a deep opening.

The agony caused the human to growl out in pain, trying to muffle his screams. It wasn't anything as bad as hell, but it seemed more real, more tangible and the fact that his body couldn't come back new after it was done with him.

"So you can just imagine how devastating it was when hunters came in and disrupted our peaceful lives. We never did anything to humans. We stayed away, kept our deformities and oddities away from your _pure_ and _untainted_ race." It pressed against the wound, feeling it give way to the pressure and damaging the tissue beneath his fingers. Gently, as if caressing a lover, the creature spread the sides of the wound, pinching back the skin to see the depth of the mark. It pressed the knife back in, sinking the blade to the bone, causing an anguish scream from the man in the chair. He let the tip scratch against the bone as it began to talk again. "That was my first kill. Three hunters. But not until after they grabbed my mate, dragged her from the bed and shoved a silver knife into her heart."

Digging it's fingernails into Dean's shoulder, he pulled out the knife and dismounted Dean's legs, placing the knife on the ground next to the chair. While the shapeshifter's back was turned, Dean attempted to grab the knife with his feet, but the pain he was feeling was dulling his senses and he ended up kicking it away. It moved over to the table, grabbing a thin whip, one that would cut through the skin and cause unimaginable agony.

"So, as you can see. I was a little upset about that." It raised it arm and the whip landed on Dean's skin, causing the flesh to part open, leaving a deep gash from Dean's cheek, down his neck and across his shoulder. The human closed his eyes at the pain, stiffing a yell. "So I figured why not err against the human race, I had never done it before, my mate had never either." The whip landed across Dean's chest and some of his stomach. "So I started, might as well have some sins so it would make her death seem worth it." The next one was placed on his shoulder, his jacket blocking the edge of it. "So I've killed, I've killed many, many couples that were in love." Stinging pain from the whip laced up Dean's side, starting from his hip bone, and he let out a rough scream of pain. He closed his eyes, trying to keep the sting in his eyes at bay, having no desire for tears to fall from his eyes and down his cheeks unbidden. Dean did not want the creature to know that he was causing him pain, pain enough to break down his defenses.

He could feel his heart beating loudly in his ears, forcing the blood to rush through his veins and leak out the wounds on his body. Dean tried not to show how much pain he was in, the stinging and the burning sensations muddled in with the pain, causing his whole body to feel as if it was on fire the pain radiating down to his muscles. But Dean how his body felt for fear of being weak, for not wanting to give the creature the satisfaction he so desperately craved.

Something clattered to the floor, and Dean opened his eyes to see the shapeshifter empty handed. "So what?" Dean gruffly called out, the edge of consciousness slowly drifting away from him. The pain was immense, his whole body seemed to ache and the wounds screamed in pain, his skin in agony at the treatment. "Now you just kill me and continue on?"

"No, Dean." The shapeshifter murmured, it's hand reaching out gently to touch the side of his face, stroking it much like it had been when Dean had been knocked out. "I think after you, I will stop. I will finally have my revenge."

Dean pulled his head away, causing his vision to swim, anger evident in his eyes despite the pain and disorientation. "So you just keep that body and then go on. Pretend this never happened?"

A small chuckle was emitted from the lips, and the voice the shapeshifter spoke in was soft. "How many mates have you killed?" When there wasn't a reply it asked something else. "How many monsters have you killed?"

"Hundreds." Dean growled back. It was simple, it was what he was meant to do, what he was raised to do. He may put on a tough exterior, but inside he was still lost and confused, desiring for approval from a dead and emotionally abusive father. So he had continued on that path, the one his father had laid down and sent him on. He was worthless, he couldn't do anything except kill the being that haunted the world. Or so he was told.

The shapeshifter leaned forwards, hands once again upon Dean's knees. "And to think, you fell in love with a being that isn't human, is one of those supernatural monsters you're so intent on destroying. Dean Winchester, saving the world by ridding it of one creature at a time."

"You can go fuck yourself." Dean growled, his green eyes staring defiantly at the Castiel look a like.

The shapeshifter pursed it lips before it's hand grasped Dean's, it's fingers wrapping around Dean's on his left hand. Confused he glanced down at their hands feeling the beginning pressure it was applying. Before he knew it, the force was becoming unbearable and he yelled out in pain, begging the creature to stop. There was no release and he felt his bones begin to grind against one another, bending to the will of the shapeshifter as they began to snap, breaking and crushing as the strength the creature used did not relent. It twisted Dean's hand, massaging the broken bones against one another, causing them to break further and press into the raw flesh.

After what seemed like hours, the creature let go, wiping it's hand against the tan trench coat. "Politeness, Winchester, it might get you far."

Gasping for breath, the pain in his hand unbearable, Dean glanced up at the shapeshifter, not caring that he had been 'rude' since he was going to die anyways, why wait for it. If he could make it sooner he would. "Just kill me already." He managed to gasp out, blinking his eyes rapidly to stop any tears that might flow. They stared at each other for what might have been an eternity. Dean sighed, and let his head drop to his chest, moaning at the flow of pain that the action caused. The silence continued and then Dean felt the creature hands on his abdomen, moving lower and pulling on his belt. "What the-" Dean yelled, bucking his hips up in order to dislodge the creature hands. Instead, a rumbling scream of pain was ripped from his lips as the movement caused the cuts and wounds on his body to open and move against each other, tearing the skin that was attempting to heal apart. Agony racked through his body, causing him to convulse and send more pain through him.

Taking a deep breath, Dean froze, causing his body to remain still and for the pain to edge into a dull throb. When he had calmed himself down enough, Dean opened his eyes, attempting to regain a normal breathing tempo. But it was not forthcoming as he was met with the calm glare of the shapeshifter. Its hands reached forward again and Dean was just able to stutter out, "n-no. Please."

It wasn't much, but it caused the creature to pause. "I'm not going to sexually assault you. I leave you with what little dignity you have left." Dean still shied away when the creature reached for him. "I believe bleeding out it the best way to die. Not for you, of course, but for me. I enjoy seeing the pale faces, the dimming of the eyes, and the last rattling breath to leave a body." This time it moved to Dean's belt so quickly that the human didn't have time to react. "The femoral artery is the best place for that with all the blood pumping though it."

The creature undid Dean's pants' pulling them down his legs with force, revealing the boxers that he was wearing. It pulled out a long, thin blade from a pocket of the coat and pushed the boxers up on one leg, revealing Dean's skin. As the cold metal rested against his flesh, he groaned at the contact.

"Goodbye, Dean Winchester, I hope your angel can live without you." With a quick flick of his wrist, the shapeshifter cut deeply into the side of Dean's leg.

The knife was so sharp that he didn't even feel the cut, only the warm, sticky blood dripping down his leg and onto the floor. But even though his life force was draining out of him, he still glared at the shapeshifter, refusing to back down even though he was on the cusp of death.

As the pool of blood beneath him increased in size, Dean found it harder and harder to retain consciousness. The blackness started to edge into his vision and try as he might to evade it his mind was beginning to swirl and a warm fuzz covered him. He felt tired and sluggish, his eyes drooping closed for seconds at a time, his mind forgetting his vendetta against the creature standing in front of him. The warm blackness on the edge of his mind beckoned to him, but Dean fought it with fear. Knowing that he hadn't lived the life he wanted to, fulfilled all his desires, told Castiel and Sam everything they needed to know. In a quick attempt to make peace with himself, Dean gave in. Letting himself loose reality, his heartbeat slowing, his breathing becoming short and shallow. The body that kept him grounded on Earth was loosing it's battle, and Dean let it, waiting for the end.

The last thing Dean remembered before he fell into the deep, darkness was a bright light enveloping him and Dean assumed he must be dying, the light bringing him to the other side.

* * *

**A/N:** Like I said... please don't hate me. And if there is something that was confusion, or didn't work, or you didn't get, I would love to fix it =]

Thank you **Mix Golden Phoenix**, **Hopelessly British**, **Celphius**, **Guest**, **StoryWriterOfAll-101**, **Aishaduh**, **Larkafree**, **to lazy to login**, **My Dean Love**, **FireChildSlytherin5**, **Perry123**, and **Hannio** for reviewing

And for your prize you get to choose one weapon out of the back of the Impala. Choose wisely... it may save your life one day.

Oh, and does anyone want a chapter from Cas and Sam's point of view?


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG-13.  
**Warning: **Violence.

**A/N: **I am so, so sorry about last chapter. I feel absolutely horrible if anyone had a negative reaction to it.

I promise I'm not a psychopath. Just a nursing student and a CNA that has seen too much! People can do the worst things to each other. My brother used to be an EMT in the worst part of a large city and the stories I would hear were horrible. So, I promise I'm a totally sane person who doesn't hurt other people for fun... was last chapter really that bad? I though I was doing horrible at explaining the pain Dean was going through. Well, maybe it means that the future smut might not be a total failure.

So here's a chapter from Castiel's point of view. It took me a little while to try and configure his thoughts and everything. See, I didn't make you wait too long for it! But now it's decision time, I for one, am not ready for this story to end in a few chapters, wrapping it bak to the first chapter with the witch. I had typed up a few mock chapters that would help with the relationship.

Wow, what a long authors note. I'd be happy to answer any questions anyone might have. But for now, Enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Ten

Blinding lights were flashing around the bar, illuminating areas at random, blinding retina's and causing pupils to constrict to take in the the new amount of light. Try as they might, blinking rapidly would not deplete the bright spots behind their eyelids, leaving them dazed and confused for a few seconds. The strobe light cut through the haze gathered at the top of the room with sharp clarity. The music was loud, the bass vibrating through the whole building and running through bodies, causing liquid in glasses to vibrate with the power. It was at a volume that would leave a normal person with a dulled hearing when they left the bar. Granted, how they left all depended on their own decision and looking at the quantity of alcohol being circled through the patrons would lead one to believe that most people would leave in an intoxicated state, even the largest men were drinking enough to send them into an oblivious bliss. The smell of sweat and sex was prominent in the room even though there was no actual fornication happening the dancing on the floor seemed to be close enough to the act. People were dancing, moving against anyone who happened to be near them creating one writhing mob on the dance floor. All together it seemed like a pleasant place for a night out, something someone would plan with friends and dress up for. An excuse to get out of their reality and leave their problems behind for a few hours while they drank and danced with their friends and strangers.

Though for one person in the crowd, it was something akin to torture. Castiel's head was pounding, the music overshadowing his thoughts, making it hard for him to discern what he was actually thinking. It even overpowered the words that were whispered into his mind by the other angels. Causing him to hear nothing but the bass vibrating through him and the one task he was forcing himself to focus on. Nothing else could be heard, what little conversation that was going on with the angels was blocked out, prayers were lost in the beat and wave of the music. Although, communication between the angels had halted to the bare minimum, each of his brethren worried about who might be listening, the war complicating many things in heaven.

Castiel stood there, watching as Dean made his way through the crowds to the bar and Sam disappeared onto the dance floor, becoming hidden by the writhing mass of bodies. He knew it was his turn to move, search among the crowd for a soul not quite human. It was always difficult explaining things to humans, they may understand, but they will never truly know. So the angel would attempt to put it in some terms they might understand, actions they would be partial to. Even though, in reality, it was different.

Choosing a direction opposite of the Winchester brothers, Castiel glanced around hesitantly. He knew that he had always severed God and was always a soldier having immense power at the tip of his fingers. Though doubt may have shaken him and changed his path, Castiel knew he could forge his own, finding the truth and getting what was right. Even though Castiel was a powerful being who could easily fight a hoard of demons he felt out of his element in a small bar in downtown Chicago.

But with Dean, Castiel could see beyond the false bravado, see the man that was crumbling inside, dying without a real path. He depended on his brother and as long as Sam Winchester was okay, Dean knew he could make it one more day for Sam's sake. And with Dean, Castiel felt like he belonged. He may have a distaste for Dean's antics and actions that put everyone in danger, but there was something that made the angel feel drawn to the man. He assumed it was something to do with the bond they shared, the friendship they started together. He was millenniums old, yet he had never spent so much time with such a unique and peculiar human. Actually, he had never gotten close to any human before, preferring to watch them from a far as they developed into the thriving race they were today.

Castiel moved among the dancers, feeling some of them move up against him and he pushed them away, having no desire to be touched. He had danced with Dean previously, feeling the man's increasing heart beat against his chest, the soft lips against his neck. It had been pleasant. He trust Dean and felt closer to him with this action, though what confused him was the action was customary to couples or people attempting to attract a mate for the night.

Perhaps... this was what Dean was doing to him? Castiel shook his head. Although Dean and him may have shared a bed together a few times, it had been necessary and strictly platonic.

A bright while light from a strobe light up the area he was in, bouncing off the human's souls and reflecting information back to him. He silently sent a prayer up in heaven when he saw a man and his intentions with the woman who was dancing a few feet away from him. The sins seemed to pour off the people clinging to their soul as the humans tried to ignore their faults and wrong doings. This place, it was a place of lust. Lust was always a sin and always will be. His father created love, a powerful emotion for the human race. But with free will and choice comes the sin. Lust is the opposite of love. Love being the most gracious and beautiful feeling of all. While love was encourage, lust was thought of as a sin. It was no sin to love your partner, you crave to be intimate with them. But sex without love, with just lust as the driving force is a sin and Castiel could see it in nearly ever person around him.

Love was meant to be cherished, not thrown away and wasted such as it was happening here.

Castiel moved through the crowd, almost gliding among the people as he glanced at their souls. When ten minutes had passed by, Castiel claimed it was a lost cause for he saw nothing that seemed out of the ordinary in this building. The people here seemed perfectly human, perfectly normal. Remembering the direction of the bar, he headed there, standing awkwardly next to the counter while he waited for the brothers to show up. His face was stoic to hide the emotions flashing behind his perfectly constructed mask.

As much as the Winchesters liked to joke, Castiel had emotions as well. Love for his father and brothers. Joy at the human race and heaven. Happiness. Hope. Enjoyment. These emotions are capitalized on in the Bibles creating the illusions of delightful angels. What the Bible omitted was the anger and furry an angel had, the self-righteousness and sense of duty and loyalty. Angels are not guardians, they are soldiers of the Lord.

Two minutes had passed since the time they were supposed to meet. Castiel decided to chalk this up to human error, how could they possibly keep in mind something as small as time. Especially since it ticked away in Castiel's mind as a constant reminder, the humans had to look at their watch in order to gain such knowledge.

After six minutes had passed Castiel shifted and was about to delve back into the crowd when he felt the presence of Sam Winchester drawing near him. Turning, Castiel watched as Sam eased his way through the dancers and met him up at the bar. The tall man stunk from pheromones and Castiel couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the human. "We're here for a reason, Sam, I would appreciate it if you didn't dwell from the task at hand."

A guilty look passed over Sam's face as he nervously shifted from his feet. "I was just dancing, you understand."

Castiel nodded, an all too human action. Sometimes people just needed contact to make sure they weren't alone in the world. He could definitely understand, especially after everything Sam had been through. Life had never been easy for the Winchesters and a lot was expected out of them. There was no blame on Sam when Castiel knew the man needed a release, needed to know that someone out there other than his brother appreciated him even if it was for something purely physical as dancing.

As Sam ordered a beer from the bartender, Castiel's eyes surveyed the dance floor, confusion lingering in his thoughts about why Dean hadn't joined them at the bar. At nearly ten minutes late, he fought to push back his fear. Dean was an excellent hunter, no trouble would come to him. As Sam turned back with his beer, Castiel finally asked what he was thinking. "Where is Dean?"

Sam took a sip of his beer, the amber liquid rippling in the glass as he rested it against the bar counter. "Oh, you know." Sam chuckled, a half smile pulling up the left side of his lips.

"No. I do not know." Castiel replied, his blue eyes watching Sam's face for any emotion he might miss. He wasn't as in tune to human facial expressions as some of his brethren, forcing him to stare for any sign. Dean had often commented about how uncomfortable the action was.

"He's probably getting lucky. About time too. A pent up Dean is a no fun Dean." Sam replied, tapping his fingers along the edge of the glass, causing the beads of condensation to drop off and gather in a ring on the bar counter.

The added noise of tapping on the glass mixed with the music became unbearable for Castiel and it took all his control not to hit the glass away from Sam. "Getting lucky?" Castiel was growing impatient. He hated that he needed to wade through slang and terms in order to get to the truth, something that people should state plainly in the beginning.

"Sex, Cas, sex." Sam replied, raising the glass to his lips and taking another sip. That explanation caused a rush of anger to flare in the angel. He had asked for their help and only gotten roped into one of their hunts and now Dean was probably off copulating with some woman while he idly sat by, his own orders from heaven weighing down on his mind. "He'll be done soon. It's most likely just a quickie."

The added comment did nothing to stifle the indignation that ran through his body. He may have had no idea what a quickie was, but he wanted Dean to take no part in it. Taking a deep breath, Castiel reached up and ran his hand through his hair, another human action that he was sure he picked up from Sam, and tried to calm himself. "Sam, Dean does understand that there is something more important than fornicating with a woman going on?"

It was then that Castiel realized that there was also concern in Sam's eyes and it seemed as if the younger brother was also worrying about Dean. "Yeah... yeah, I know." Nothing was spoken between them before Sam added, "have you heard anything?"

With a shake of his head, Castiel dismissed that theory. He couldn't hear anything in the noise, much less prayers, and neither of them wanted to separate to look for Dean incase the man returned to the bar while they were not there. Using a different strategy, the angel glanced around the room, his blue eyes flicking to each soul, looking for the pure soul of the righteous man. It was a soul he would recognize anywhere. The soul that he had grabbed from Hell, his hand burning into the contact, his wings beating hard and fast as the feathers on the edge singing. The pure and raw contact they had with each other bringing a new level of pain but forging a bond that could never be broken.

The soul was no where in sight and Castiel turned back to Sam, seeing the same pure soul as Dean but swirls of black tainted in it from demon blood and the red of Lucifer's vessel encasing it in a soft glow. "He isn't here."

"What do you mean 'he isn't here'?" Sam growled, anger evident in his voice to cover the fear he was feeling.

Castiel leveled his blue glare at Sam's hazel ones, glancing up the few inches of their height difference. Even though Castiel was shorter, his knew he held an aura around him, a powerful one that made men feel smaller around him. "Exactly what I said."

"Excuse me." Castiel turned when he heard a voice a few feet to his right. There was a man of average height with light blonde hair and hazel eyes addressing the bartender. The man was wearing jeans and a nice button-up shirt that fit to his body, showing of how fit he was. "Somethings wrong with the mens bathroom, the mirrors broken and there's blood. I don't know if a fight went on there, or what. Just thought you'd want to know."

The man turned away from the bartender and melted back into the crowd, although Castiel could hardly bother with the human's progress and turned to Sam. Of course the Winchester hadn't heard a word of the conversation, the music would have overpowered his senses. Instead, Castiel leaned towards the Winchester. "Something went on in the mens bathroom."

Sam's brow furrowed, but he trailed behind Castiel as he pushed through the crowd in order to get to the hallway that lead to the men's and women's bathroom. This time he didn't even try to thread around the dancing people, instead he made them move with his hands, ignoring the indignant comments that seemed to follow him. Sam was in his wake, apologizing for Castiel's actions. He was in a rush, fearing for the worst.

Pushing open the door to the bathroom Castiel could instantly sense it. Something was wrong. The light scent of blood reached him and Castiel moved over to the sink, seeing a smear of blood running from the top of the sink down the side of it. A dried pool of blood resided on the white tiled floor and Castiel squatted down next to it before he drew away sharply, anger flashing across his face as he recognized it as the blood of Dean. A soft primal growl left his lips as he glanced up, seeing Sam studying the shattered mirror that still rested on the wall.

Dean had been here. Dean and what Castiel could only assume was the shapeshifter. "How could he be so stupid?" Castiel growled, turned and glancing around the rest of the small bathroom.

"Maybe it came to Dean as you or me." Sam muttered, letting his hand drop from the broken mirror and turned towards the angel. Castiel knew Sam could tell he was agitated but was having trouble hiding his emotions. "We need to find him. Anything?"

A pale hand reached up, fingers prodding at the skin of his forehead as Castiel battled with the headache the loud music had left him with. Nothing so far, just a shrill ringing noise in his ears. Even the voices of his brethren hadn't returned yet. "No. Nothing." The music was dulled through the walls but it brought no relief to the angel.

"We need to get to the sewers right now, Cas." Sam said, his hazel eyes watching the angel as the man ran a hand through his hair, a sigh that Castiel had learned that meant the human was nervous.

Remembering the plans of the city, Castiel stepped forward and touched Sam's forehead, transporting them to the murky tunnel beneath the bar without warning. Sam's feet collided with the concrete and he staggered slightly before he regained his balance. Castiel did not wait for him, moving ahead of the human reaching out his grace to search among the tunnels and walls for the human he had rescued from Hell. Though stretched as far as his limits would allow, Castiel only felt the presence of animals, rats and bugs mostly.

On a whim, Sam pulled out his cellphone and dialed Dean's number, but it went instantly to voicemail which caused a string of swear words to leave Sam's mouth. They traveled down the main tunnel, trying to stay on the walkway for one wrong slip would send them tumbling into the murky waters below them.

It wasn't long before anger flared up in the angel, just a thought of someone hurting Dean caused rage to build in him. This whole time, Castiel was trying to protect Dean and it would all be for nothing if he failed now and Dean was hurt beyond repair, death cooling his body. These days, it wasn't often that he grew to such temperament. Even the war in heaven seemed to be calm and calculated, there was no reason to let such temper control his emotions. But when it came to Dean and dangerous situations, Castiel couldn't seem to keep his calm. The human seemed to bring out the most of emotions in him. The angel knew he cared for Dean, knew his friendship was reciprocated, yet he had never tested the bounds of anything with Dean.

"_Cas, fuck, please_" And anguished scream seemed to rip though his mind, a small prayer from a dying man, a last request for help. The rough voice soothed Castiel and riled him up at the same time. Instantly, Castiel was chasing the short prayer, trying to locate it before it disappeared. Grabbing Sam's elbow, Castiel flew them closer to where Dean was before he lost the thought.

Castiel overcompensated for the distance, even though he landed with perfect clarity, Sam seemed disoriented and staggered over to the wall, leaning against it to clear his head. But that wasn't what the angel was focusing on. His heart stopped when he saw Dean.

The human was bloodied and beaten, his body barely recognizable through the blood and wounds. His shirt had been cut open and pushed back while his jeans hung around his knees. His body was pale and blood and sweat seemed to mix on his skin. His usual blonde hair was tinted red and his eyes were dull and glossy. The eyes of a dying man. Pupils dilating with pain and death. He was just about to loose consciousness and he wasn't paying attention to what was happening in the warming world.

Fury welled inside him and his blue glare turned on the other person in the room. The creature's soul shone bright with the pain of a loss one and desire for revenge tainting it. But taking a step back, Castiel focused on the creature's vessel seeing one that mimicked his own perfectly, the one that tricked Dean into this position. His fists clenched when he saw the same blue eyes, full of fear, staring back at him and Castiel appeared in front of the creature, only inches away before he failed his arms, balling his fingers into a fist and punched the shapeshifter in the jaw, watching with satisfaction as it's head twisted to the side, spinning it as it fell to the floor.

"Get up." Castiel growled, his low voice rumbling dangerously. The creature coughed and pushed itself up to it's knees. It was taking too long and Castiel kicked it in the side with so much force that it flew against the wall. With two quick strides, he covered the distance and grabbed the lapels of the shapeshifter's trench coat and dragged him up the wall. "What gives you the right?" He slammed the creature back into the wall watching as the shapeshifter moaned when his head bounced off the cement.

When no answer came the angel removed one hand from the trench coat and landed a blow to it's abdomen. "No.. please." The creature pleaded, blood leaking from between its lips, tinting the creatures mouth red.

"Begging?" He scoffed, spinning and pushing the creature towards a wall on the other side of the room. "Do you really think that tactic's going to work on me?" The shapeshifter hit the wall with a loud thud, the cement cracking behind its back as it sunk down the wall, sprawling on the floor.

Fear was prevalent in it's eyes as it looked up at Castiel. "T-this is wh-what its like get-geting between an.. an angel and its m-mate."

"No." Castiel uttered, "and angel and his bond." That comment seemed to scare the creature more as he started to pant from hyperventilation.

Dean was not his mate. He loved Dean like he loved the host, singing to it and rejuvenating himself. Dean was much like that, bringing him power and healing him in his own way. Though it was odd to finally realized that he loved something that didn't have to do with heaven, his father, or his brothers. But the feeling confused him, he was sure it was a natural emotion, to love your friend. Dean loved Sam and his father, he still clung to the hope that Mary, if she was alive, would love him as much as he loved her. It was a confusing emotion, a platonic love, a friendship love.

His palm made rough contact with the shapeshifter's forehead, emitting a bright light from the creatures eyes and mouth, burning through them completely. It light the whole room, and Castiel could feel his grace flowing into the body, wreaking havoc. He watched with enjoyment as the life and soul was destroyed by his grace. The form mimicking him dropped to the ground, nothing more than en empty shell. It was gone and over.

"Cas." Sam hoarsely called and Castiel turned, forgetting the younger Winchester was in the room. "Cas, you gotta help him."

Leaving the body on the grown, Castiel straightened himself, turning his attention to Dean. Sam's hands were fumbling, covered in blood, as they tried to steam the flow of blood from a wound in the older man's leg. But he looked beyond that, he looked at Dean's dimming soul, readying to leave the body in a few seconds and delve behind the veil. The air was getting colder and he knew that any second Dean would disappear and a reaper would arrive to take him to his final destination.

Moving forward, Castiel rested two fingers on Dean's forehead, letting his grace travel into Dean's body, twirling around and moving through the human until it was everywhere. His grace began to heal, knitting together the flesh and creating it perfect again, smoothing out the deformities and soothing the pain away. It brought back memories of when he had brought Dean back to Earth and healed his body so it was capable of holding his soul again. Though the blood remained on his body, the skin was flawless, the pain gone, as if he had never been tortured to his death.

Once the task was finished the grace left Dean's body, returning to Castiel along with the slight ache that came from such a large chore. The ache of Dean's wounds faded fast and he returned his attention on his friend sitting in front of him. Running his index finger over the rope, the angel watched it cut in half and fall to the floor.

Any second now.

Any second Dean would take in a deep breath, eyes opening wide as he came back from near death.

No. Something was wrong. Castiel focused on Dean's soul, seeing it blink feebly and extinguish.

What had he done wrong? He had healed the body before the veil between the living and dead had caught Dean's soul.

Sam's heavy breathing next to him disrupted his thoughts and Castiel held a finger up, as if quieting any future questions.

Dean's soul suddenly reappeared floating through the layers of his skin and into the air, a ghostly glow appearing around it, telling Castiel that Dean was dead, his soul moving through the layers of the world. Gently, the angel reached out and cupped the soul in his hands, once again feeling the raw power that he grabbed onto in Hell. He brought the soul towards him, holding it up to eye level before he brought it a few centimeters in from of his lips and gently blew a light breath on it. Sam was watching his movements carefully and Castiel knew the Winchester hadn't a clue what he was doing since he couldn't see the soul in this state. Another light breath moved across the soul, blowing off the traces of the veil and returning Dean to this world. Castiel bent down, slowly pushing into Dean's stomach to place the soul back into the proper place.

"Close your eyes, Sam." Castiel murmured as a light glow surrounded Dean's body as his soul was reunited with its body, knowing where it belonged. The light shone bright for a few seconds before it dimmed, reveling the form of Dean. He seemed peaceful as if sleeping and Castiel removed his hand from Dean's stomach.

"That was rather anti-climatic." Sam replied, kneeling down next to his sleeping brother.

Of course that would be what Sam would think. He didn't know that Dean's life had been a touch and go process. "He needs his sleep. He needs to recuperate."

Sam didn't argue as Castiel touched Sam's shoulder and Dean's forehead, moving them back to the motel room. Castiel loved the feeling of flying, but it ended all too soon and the problems that were in the small sewer room followed them to the motel room. When they arrived he placed Dean on the bed while Sam landed heavy on his feet, but managed to catch his balance instantly.

Smoothing Dean's hair back, Castiel inspected the human, checking to make sure everything would be fine when he woke up. Sam went to Dean duffel back and grabbed out clean clothes, he put on a brave face even though his hands shook with the fear and anguish of almost loosing his brother and best friend. The angel moved his hand over Dean's body, cleaning off the blood, dirt and sewer slime, getting him ready for his change of clothes.

Sam pulled up Dean's shoulder, sliding the cut t-shirt and jacket off his brother's shoulders, pulling them to the side so he could slide it off Dean's other arm. "Cas, could you...?" Sam asked the angel. Castiel nodded, moving forward to support Dean's shoulder while Sam slid Dean's arm into one arm hole and then the other, finally pulling it over his head and down his body. Castiel gently put his friend back down on the bed, making sure his head was resting comfortable on the pillow since that seemed to be what humans did for comfort. Sam moved to Dean's pants, pulling off his shoes and socks before pulling off the jeans the rest of the way, dropping the pants onto the floor. Next Sam removed his brother's boxers and Castiel watched carefully, realizing this wasn't the first time Sam has needed to change Dean while he was unconscious. The angel's eyes traveled to where the incision was made against the side of Dean's leg, seeing that the flesh bore no resemblance to a mark now. Glancing at the rest of Dean's body his eyes came to rest on Dean's flaccid penis which was still rather large even though it wasn't erect. Then his eyes moved down to Dean's knees where Sam was struggling to move the boxers up. Castiel slid a hand underneath Dean's lower back and lifted, bringing the body up off the bed a little, allowing Sam to pull the boxers all the way up and the pulled on a pair of sweatpants that he had to dig deep for in Dean's bag. Once the Winchester was all dressed, Sam pulled the covers up around him, tucking him in with care that could only come from a brotherly love.

"So now we wait?" Sam asked Castiel while he grabbed the discarded clothes off the floor and threw them into the trash. Castiel could only nod as he went over and sat on a chair located at the small table.

"Yes. We wait." A little while later Sam went to take a shower and change, lounging on his bed as he waited for Dean to wake up. Even when Sam succumbed to sleep Castiel stayed still as a stone, waiting.

A soft flutter of eyelids and a quiet moan alerted Castiel to the awakening of Dean.

"Dean?" Castiel whispered, finally moving from the chair to standing next to Dean's bed.

"Cas." Dean replied, a small smile on his face. "I knew you'd come for me. I knew you'd find me." Dean reached out a hand, wrapping his fingers around Castiel's wrist as he tugged him down and towards the bed. A silent invitation to join him. Castiel accepted it, sliding his feet out of his shoes and unbuttoning his dress shirt, pushing off all three layers at once, only keeping on his dress pants and the white t-shirt on.

Dean shifted over, pulling back the covers for Castiel. The angel took the blankets from Dean and pulled them over him when he got in, shifting until he was comfortable on the bed. When he stopped moving, Dean seemed to mould into his side, pulling the angel's arm around him while he rested on Castiel's chest, one arm wrapped around the angel's waist. Castiel repetitively ran his fingers through Dean's hair, lulling him to sleep with the simple action.

Seeing Dean asleep against him made Castiel's heart swell with happiness. He didn't even know he could feel this emotion to such bounds, but he loved every second of it. Loved the way Dean made him feel. But most of all was happy that the human trusted him to such an extent. That Dean would wrap his arms around Castiel and fall asleep causing him to be vulnerable and open. Compromised almost.

He didn't know what this was. But whatever it was, Castiel wanted to keep it.

* * *

**A/N:** See! See! Don't hate me anymore, please...

Thank you **Ceilingphan**, **Lopithecus**, **aishaduh**, **Larkafree**, **StoryWriterOfAll-101**, **zabani-chan**, **By My Pen**, **Hopelessly British**, **shavra**, , **RyuichiGravi**, **ChrisMeLove**, **Perry123**, **CatchMyCaracal**, **silken touch**, **Hannio**, **XClaire BearX**, **FireChildSlytherin5**, **My Dean Love**, **Celphius**, and **dualities** for reviewing.

Wow... that's a lot of comments...

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Friggin' A its hard to type with a big dog on my lap.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG.  
**Warning: **None

**A/N: **Here's another chapter. I'm sorry about the weird posting schedule. It'll get back to normal this week since I go back to my usual schedule of 2-11 instead of 7-3. I decided we're gonna go with the few extra chapters because I feel without them there would be some gaps in the romance that Castiel and Dean will start.

Not very happy with how this chapter came out. But I'm still so excited. =]

Enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Eleven

Dean jerked awake, sitting straight up as he glanced around the room. Memories came flooding bak to him, flashes of the pain, the bright blue eyes, the low rumbling tone and the bright, white light that seemed to sear into his very essence. The drifting, oddness enveloping him, thin wisps of a dark matter covering a pure and white orb. Everything came back to him so fast that he groaned, dropping his head onto the palms of his hands. He remembered waking up and wanting someone, needing someone to be next to him. But it couldn't be anyone, it had to be Castiel.

The warmth that had enveloped him while he slept was suddenly absent and he turned to the empty spot on the bed. There was no Castiel, only the rumpled comforter that seemed to have been moved out of the way so the angel could exit the bed without disturbing Dean's slumber. He couldn't remember what it felt like to have the angel sleeping next to him, but Dean knew he wouldn't be able to sleep without Castiel.

Scooting back, Dean placed the pillow on the headboard and rested against it, pulling the comforter up around his body. He smoothed his hand down his thigh, feeling the soft sweatpants move against his skin. Moving his hand back up he slipped his fingers past the waistband of the pants and down past the hem of his boxers, feeling the area where the knife sliced through his skin, severing the femoral artery. It was smooth and soft, as if nothing had ever happened. He continued on to check the rest of his skin. There were no knife wounds on his chest, not even the white lines of scars marred his skin, past or present ones from the torture. He was as pristine as when he was born, or even when Castiel healed him after being beaten and bloodied by Lucifer, erasing the handprint the angel had left on him in Hell as well. Dean spent some time flexing and staring at his hand, watching it move fluidly through the motions. He couldn't really believe that a few hours previously it had been crushed and broken.

Dean glanced up from his hand, looking around the room just incase Castiel was lurking in a corner and the hunter wasn't able to see him. But after a quick survey, Dean realized that Sam was the only other presence in the room. Sleeping soundlessly on top of his bed, his whole body turned towards Dean as if he fell asleep waiting for his brother to wake up. There was a small desire to wake his brother so he wouldn't be alone at the moment, but Sam must have been worried and it would do him good to sleep through the whole night.

Light pooled onto the floor from the window, a streetlight shining through the crack in the curtain. Dean felt his gaze turn to it while his mind tried to sort through the memories. He could remember everything perfectly up until the bright light. Now he remembered the hazy scene that had gone on before him. The confusions of two Castiels in the room, one pinned against the wall, fear prominent in his features while the other held anger and possessiveness that seemed to dictate his actions.

A bright searing light and the knowledge of another's death in the room, knowing his would soon be following. Dean remembered the torturing. Every second of it. His mind still intact. The shapeshifter blinded by rage and revenge. Knowing that Castiel, his angel, was also furious at Dean's state, wanting revenge for the pain Dean had been put through.

Bright blue eyes, compassion and worry hiding deep in them, seemed to peer into his soul. A gentle touch making Dean feel complete, all he needed was his angel's touch and he knew he could go, leave the living. That face. Those eyes. That touch. He knew he could die. He may not have gotten to do everything he wanted. Tell Sam, Castiel, and Bobby what they needed to hear. He made a lot of mistakes, but in an attempt to quell the fear, he went willingly, allowing him to reconcile and accept the fate that he would have.

Coldness had surrounded him, and he felt like he was moving through a fog, pushing through a haze in order to get to the other side. The side Dean had assumed would be the side of the Dead. A place where Angel and Reapers could see him. The place where he would meet the reaper that would take him to the place he belonged. How he hoped it would be Tessa, at least this time he wouldn't hesitate. He would willingly go with her.

But then something changed. He was enveloped in heat, scorching and hot, burning down to his very core. But it wasn't painful, it was comforting, as if he had felt this presence before. And perhaps he had. Dean now knows that he had felt it in Hell when Castiel had come to his rescue, pulling him out of the deep pit of despair and wrong doings. The presence felt calming and comforting, it was powerful, and it seemed special to him. Dean could feel everything. He could feel Castiel's worry, his fear, his residing anger, but most of all, he felt Castiel's love for him.

A warm breeze had passed over him, blowing away the fog and haze, replacing it with a sense and purpose in the world. Then once again, the intense heat as he was placed back into his proper place in his body, lighting up as he reconnected with his senses. As Castiel's grace flowed into him, once again, retying the bonds that kept him among the living. A bright light surrounded him as he was pulled away from dying, thrust back with the living, power, energy, and strength flowing through him as his soul reignited his heart, working his brain, planting him on Earth and forcing him to be alive.

It was a refreshing and invigorating feeling. And as Castiel's hand left him, he had slowly slipped into sleep, letting his sore and tired body recuperate.

Dean's hand went to his stomach, lifting up the shirt and glancing at his stomach. His hand slid down, slowly tracing the lines of his abdominal muscles, shadowed in the light. It was perfect, soft and pure skin. But it was where Castiel had fixed him. Touched him with his hand and let his grace travel through, rebuilding him and breathing life into him once again.

He let his thoughts drift, his mind slowly becoming blank as he replayed the past night over and over in his head. The difference between the shapeshifter and Castiel, the torture, the story, his death. Slowly it became a blur and his mind emptied, becoming blank as he stared out the window of the motel room, seeing the occasional car drive by every few minutes. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, not after that. But he had to try. He had to be strong. Strong for Sam and for Castiel. For the hunting world. For everyone. He was supposed to be this strong and unmovable force. Someone that took everything that was thrown their way and then some. He knew that he was fine in reality, that he had no visible scars of the battle. But there are other scars than visible. But for the good of everyone, Dean knew he had to shove those aside, he needed to ignore them until they went away.

'_For Sammy, for Bobby, for Cas... oh God, Cas..._' Dean's breath hitched and he shook his head, wondering when he had let emotion get such a strong hold on him. Everything Castiel had done for him, the feelings he felt through the bond Castiel and him had shared when the angel was bringing him back. But for the good of every one he knew he had to ignore it. What he had realized about the angel when he was being tortured, about Castiel being himself and not his vessel. Everything was for someone else, Dean never took a moment to think about something for himself, what he wanted. Instead, he knew it was for the best if they all moved on from this tragic situation. The fast the better.

Dean pushed himself off the headboard and shifted down in bed, fixing his pillow so it was underneath his head. Rolling onto his side, his back to the place Castiel had been, he closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing in attempt to fall asleep.

After half an hour, Dean groaned, opening his eyes to stare at the slumbering form of his brother when a soft rustle of wings announced another presence in the room.

"Cas?" Dean asked, pushing himself up with his elbows and squinting at the new form in the room.

"Hello, Dean." The familiar voice rumbled back and Dean watched as Castiel pulled his trench coat off along with the suit coat and began to unbutton his shirt. Dean watched in quiet fascination as Castiel revealed the white t-shirt underneath. When that was done, Castiel took off his shoes and moved forward, pulling the comforter back in order to slide into the bed.

Dean reached over, placing his hand's on either side of Castiel's hips, halting his progress. "No." Dean murmured, moving his hands and fumbling with Castiel's belt, sliding the leather through the buckle before he pushed the button of the angel's pants through the small hole and zipped down the small zipper. With a quick movement Dean pushed the pants off Castiel's hips, revealing prominent hip bones and black boxers and they dropped to the floor, gathering at Castiel's feet.

The angel stepped out of the pants and then crawled into the bed, shifting around so that he could get his legs under the covers and pull them back up to the height Dean had them before. Once Castiel stopped moving, laying on his back looking at the ceiling, Dean dropped back down to the pillow, staring at Sam with his back to his friend.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Dean let out a quick huff of air and rolled onto his stomach, turning his head to look at Castiel. The angel's face was stoic, his eyes watching the lights flickering on the ceiling from the car's that passed outside. Tentatively, Dean reached out his hand, gliding it along the sheets as he found Castiel's arm lying by the angel's side. The dark haired angel turned to look at Dean, the streetlamp reflecting in his eyes as he glanced down. The hunter's hand moved down, feeling the soft skin of Castiel's arm as it transferred to his wrist, the warmth of the fingers and the softness of his palms. He wove his fingers into Castiel's, interlacing their fingers in a loose hand hold.

'_Just this once.' _Dean thought, feeling guilty for putting himself first. After that, he put everything aside. Whatever these odd feelings for the angel were, he would make sure everything was platonic that way everything would work. Just this once, and then no more. He would put everyone else fist other than himself. He would do what was best.

It was comfortable and it caused Dean's eyes to flutter closed feeling very tired all of a sudden. A smile spread across his lips and he saw Castiel returning a small one of his own as Dean feel asleep, their hands locked together, holding on as if they were each other's only lifeline.

* * *

Waking up was difficult, Dean was tired after his ordeal with the shapeshifter and groaned quietly when the sun his his face, causing a bright red color to bloom behind his eyelids. What made it harder was the warm body next to him, or well, half under him as well. The hunter slowly opened his bright green eyes, the first thing coming into focus was his hand grabbing a bunch of white fabric. His other hand had long since gone numb, pinned between him and the body, but with just enough feeling to notice fingers intertwined with his. Dean focused on the bunched fabric in his hand, noticing it was a shirt. His eyes trailed up and saw Castiel's face. He looked serene, his face relaxed and his eyes closed, is lips parted slightly. Dean would have thought Castiel was sleeping but in an instant, the angel's eyes opened and Dean felt the bright blue gaze upon him.

Dean let a little smile form on his lips before he remembered what he had promised himself last night.

The smile fell and he untangled his legs from in between Castiel's relishing the feeling of their skin moving against one another. Whatever Dean thought he felt for Castiel, it had to stop now for doubt was creeping in to the friendship they had, causing him to rethink the feelings for the angel. It was better to stop it now that for something to go wrong. '_Nip it in the bud. If there is one. Just being safe..._' Pushing himself up, Dean moved away from the angel, pulling his hand out of its night long embrace. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed Dean glanced around for his brother.

"He went to get breakfast." Castiel replied, noticing Dean turning to look at the open bathroom door.

The hunter grunted in reply, running a hand through his short blond hair. A small sigh escaped his lips before he began to talk. "We need to stop this, Cas."

Dean turned to look at Castiel who had sat up as well, the blankets pooling around his waist and Dean couldn't help but glance at the angel's arms, the first time they had been revealed to him fully. It was better than focusing on Castiel's face, the tilted head and the slight confusion swimming in the blue gaze. "Stop what, Dean?"

"Stop... this." The hunter muttered, motioning to them. He hoped that Castiel would understand without him having to get into detail.

After a short hesitation, Dean could see Castiel's body shift as he nodded. "Understood, Dean. I apologize."

There was silence between them and Dean stood, stretching his body out by clasping his hands together, getting rid of the feel of Castiel's fingers locked with his, and raised his arms, standing on his toes and groaning with pleasure. Once he twisted his back from side to side, Dean headed around the bed and went into the unoccupied bathroom.

* * *

By the time he came out he saw Castiel sitting in the chair by the desk, fully dressed, staring out the window. Dean hadn't a clue what he was looking at, but something told him the angel wasn't focusing on anything. Dean began to pack his duffel bag, his organized mess ruined by Sam pawing through it the previous night, trying to find Dean something to wear.

A few minutes later the door opened, revealing Sam with two coffees, a paper bag, and a newspaper tucked under his arm. He closed the door with his foot, the slam of the door echoing loudly in the quiet stillness of the room.

"Dean!" Sam smiled, happy to see his brother awake as he placed his purchases on the desk and strode over to hug Dean, his arms encircling his brother as the palm of his hands slapped down against Dean's back. A low chuckle came from the older man's mouth as he returned the hug, a small smile spreading across his lips as he realized that he was still here, alive, and Sam was okay. A flash of panic went through him as he wondered what Sam would do without him. If Dean was dead, leaving Sam alone, that would be the cruelest thing he had ever done to his younger brother. But Dean just pushed the thoughts aside, closing his eyes a he rested his chin on Sam's shoulder, breathing in the familiar small of his brother. Pulling back, Sam rested his hands on Dean's shoulders and gave the blond a glance over, a smile still on his face, his eyes showing immense joy that his brother was fine. "Man, it's good to see you."

Dean couldn't help it when his smile got bigger, turning into one of the rare eye crinkling smiles. "You too, you too." Dean patted Sam's side before his hands dropped and he turned to the coffee on the table, smelling the familiar, mouth watering aroma it gave off. He needed coffee in the morning to function and after everything, he knew he needed it badly. Picking up the cup, he drank it black, knowing that there were two sets of eyes on him. One watching without interest and the other analyzing Dean's every move.

After he assumed he had passed Sam's test, his younger brother joined him at the desk, picking up his own coffee and grabbing a fruit salad out of the bag along with an egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich which he handed over to Dean. The small motion made Dean bite his tongue, taking the food from Sam. It mean that Sam was hoping he would still be alive, planned for him to be, and even if he was still unconscious Sam would buy that food for him because it was routine. It was almost a hope that Dean would be alright.

Grunting in approval, Dean unwrapped the sandwich and bit in to it, ignoring the drip of yolk that rolled down the side of his chin as he moaned in appreciation. Sam sat down on the edge of his bed and Dean joined him, pushing the covers off to the side before he dropped onto the mattress. After a large sip of his coffee, he turned his green eyes onto Castiel who had returned to watching the cars passing by on the street. He felt slight regret pass through him before he focused on the task at hand.

Clearing his throat and resting the sandwich on his knee, Dean rolled the styrofoam cup in between his hands, feeling the warmth seeping into his palms. "So where are we going, Cas?" The angel glanced up, away from the window, his blue eyes flicking from Dean to Sam and then back to Dean. "You know, to help you?" He prompted.

"Savannah, Georgia." Castiel replied, his deep voice rumbling through the room, sounding loud due to the silence that had been prominent from the angel beforehand. His voice rumbled through the room, familiar and safe sounds and Dean felt gratitude towards his friend.

Sam frowned, glancing over at Dean who was watching Castiel intently. Turning back to Castiel, addressing him, he asked, "how do you know that's where we need to be."

Castiel was looking back at Dean but his gaze turned onto Sam when he spoke. "I searched for it this morning while you two were sleeping. I had not thought my presence would be missed, but apparently it was." Castiel's turned back to the older hunter before he glanced at a red Ford truck that passed by.

Silence enveloped the room as Sam continued to glance between the two other people in the room and Dean finished his breakfast sandwich, mulling over Castiel's words. He had missed the angel. When he left it was like Dean was unable to sleep without the angel next to him. Thinking about it, Dean had needed Castiel that morning. Needed him by his side, a connection in the dark and lonely world he lived in, taking comfort from his friend.

Dean finished his sandwich, crumpling up the paper it was wrapped in and throwing it into the trash. He swished what coffee was left in the cup around, mixing the heat evenly. "Alright, we ready to go?" Dean asked, glancing around the room at Sam and his packed bags.

"Dean, are you sure you're up for this?" Sam asked as he stabbed a piece of pineapple rather violently with his fork.

Glancing over at his brother, Dean furrowed his brow. He was fully healed and felt the bed he had in years. Standing, Dean moved over and grabbed his duffel bag, throwing the dregs of the coffee and the cup away in the trash. "Yeah, of course, Sammy. I'm fine." Dean accentuated the word fine in hope to get the point across to Sam.

With a sigh, Sam stood, throwing away his breakfast, leaving the soggy fruit in the cup. It would take some convincing, but Dean knew Sam would be on his side soon enough. As well, Dean never let anything hinder him and rarely obeyed his brother's wishes. Dean knew that Sam had learned he couldn't control his brother.

Castiel stood as well, smoothing his palms down the side of his trench coat as he watched the brother's prepare themselves for the trip. Once everything was complete the brother's paused, looking at Castiel who stepped towards them and raised his hands.

"Whoa, whoa." Dean growled, holding his hand up, causing Castiel to pause. "We're driving."

"Dean, that would take a while. My method is faster." Castiel retorted, an angry fire starting in his sapphire gaze. "By the time we get there by your slow form of transportation the item may have moved already."

"Wait, so the object can move around?" Sam asked before Dean interjected with his disagreement.

"No. We are taking my baby. I am not leaving her behind and if you want our help, this is the way it has to be." Dean growled, pushing his shoulders back, his stance showing anger and irritation, his body ready for any form of violence.

They both noticed how Castiel tensed, his hands balling into fists as he clenched his jaw. It seemed as if energy crackled around him, springing the air to life as his presence seemed to grow and loom above them. "You wouldn't mind flying so much if you just trusted me." With that Castiel turned and strode to the door, disappearing a few feet in front of it.

"Thats... that... not it... there's other reasons." Dean called out to empty air. He wanted the Impala in Savannah with them, he wanted her out on the open road after being cooped up in the city for so long. He wanted time to think about what happened, about Castiel. He just needed the steering wheel, the open road, music, and his thoughts. He needed time. To make sure that he was well enough to start another hunt and that he had really fully recovered, not just his body, but mentally as well.

But what about what Castiel had said. Of course Dean trusted him, he was his friend, he was family. Maybe there would always be that small part, the thought that he would be betrayed by Castiel. Betrayed like everyone else had betrayed him before. He was holding back, Dean knew that, but he had good reasons to. After all, Castiel was a supernatural being.

Dean turned to look at Sam and shrugged, heading towards the door and opening it, leaving the keys on the dresser top before he grabbed the Impala keys from his coat and spun them around in his hand, grabbing the right one. When he glanced at his car he saw a figure in the back and as they drew near, Dean realized that Castiel was sitting in the back seat, his hands clasped together and resting on his lap, his eyes staring straight forward through the windshield.

The Winchesters tossed their bags in the trunk, Dean locking it up before they moved to their respective sides, opening the doors to the car and sliding in. Dean smiled as he felt the leather seat underneath him and the soft, worn spots in the steering wheel where his hands rested. Closing the door next o him, he slid the key in, turning it on and hearing the familiar purr of the engine. Clicking on the music at a low volume, Dean smiled, pulling out of the motel parking lot, heading towards the highway where they would drive South towards Georgia.

"Let's do this." Dean murmured, a small smile on his lips as he glanced up at the mirror, seeing Castiel looking out the side window, and then over at his brother in the next seat.

* * *

Thank you **PrincessOfDarkness3007**, **noiseandconfusion**,**mylia11**, **Lopithecus**, **susan**, **Kalia Devereaux**, **XClaire BearX**, **Larkafree**, **Celphius**, **My Dead Love**, **StoryWriterOfAll-101**, **Aliniah**, **Perry123**, **NolesGirlElle**, **RyuichiGravi**, **MissCimi**, **DragonAngelRaven**, **FireChildSlytherin5**, **silken touch**, **Whateva876**, **CashyHoray1.00**, **We need more lube**, **aishaduh** for commenting!

For that you get one of Mary Winchester's special apple pies! I figured that would be appropriate for the rapidly approaching American Holiday of Thanksgiving!


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG.  
**Warning: **None

**A/N: **Wow, special thanks to **WHY** for bringing it to my attention that I hadn't posted in over a week. I know I usual post a chapter a week, but I'm a lazy proofreader and I got extremely busy and lost track of time. Work is wearing me out, haha. So this is a long chapter. Sorry...

Enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Twelve

The drive to Georgia was rather long an uneventful. The passengers in the car barely made any conversation, the only noise being the tires on the road, echoing loudly in the compact space, and the music floating from the speakers. The volume of the music depended on who was driving. Dean made it to Lexington, Kentucky before his worn and wearied body decided to take a miniature nap on the highway, sending Sam into a panic when the Impala began to drift off the side of the road, close to the barrier. So the older Winchester was banned to the back seat, relieving Sam and Castiel of the loud tapping on the steering wheel and the out of tune singing that Dean partook in when he drove. Instead, Sam kept the volume down for his brother's sake, allowing him to sleep and for Sam to concentrate on driving. Castiel was in the car, but his mind seemed somewhere else, his azure eyes focused on the passing landscape. The taunting trees that seemed to be looming ahead but then passed by without hesitation. Although as the trees turned into rolling hills the angel had yet to move or comment other than when Sam has stopped for gas, Dean waking up with a small start and Castiel casting a glance around the car and the station.

After sixteen hours of driving they arrived in Savannah just as the sun was setting in the hastily darkening sky. The city was quaint, obviously keeping it roots in the past as people attempted to retain their heritage. The cars marring the cobble roads and vintage riverside board walk, the old building standing behind the sidewalk. The Impala bumped over the cobblestone road as Castiel stared out the window, showing interest in the colors of the setting run reflecting in the river. If the speed change from the highway to city streets hadn't woken Dean, he was surely awake now, glancing about at the small venders moving among the crowd of tourists.

Driving to the edge of the city limit, Sam found a cheep motel, pulling the car into a parking spot. There was still time to help Castiel, but afterwards the humans would need somewhere to stay and after the long drive neither of them were willing to hit the road again until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. Sam went into the office and got them a room while Dean exited the car, slamming the door behind him, and moved around to the back of the car, leaning against the trunk. Castiel appeared beside him, hands shoved deep into his trench coat. Silence filled the air between them until Sam returned, tossing a key at Dean who caught it in his hand.

Standing in front of them Sam ran his hand through his hair trying to will off the monotonous feeling that came with driving a long distance. "So, Cas, will we have enough time to do... whatever it is you want us to do tonight?" The younger Winchester asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, mirroring Castiel.

"No." The word seemed to cut through the air like a knife, the Winchester's brow's furrowed and their eyes turned to regard the angel who in turn, watched them with his own.

"And why not?" Dean growled, his hands balling into fists as he tried to keep his anger at bay. It was understandable since they had gone through the long drive to this place just because the angel had asked for their help. His time was not dispensable, he knew what was waiting for him once he died. And Dean knew he wanted to do as much as he could while he was alive because after that there was nothing he could do, he was stuck.

What Dean hadn't expected was for the angel to turn towards him, anger flashing dangerously in his eyes, his lips formed in a thin line with barely contained rage seething beneath the surface. "Because your idiotic judgement thought that the object would still be here seventeen hours later."

Annoyed by the insult Dean turned to face his full body towards his friend. "Oh, so it moves. It would be so helpful to know that instead of being kept in the dark. Honest, I thought you were past that dick angel stage, Cas."

"Dean." Sam spoke quietly, taking a step towards his brother. Dean understood the warning, but ignored it, if Castiel wanted to kill him then Dean could do nothing about it. Who was he to go against an angel's rage.

Castiel's eye's narrowed before a quick huff of air passed between his lips. "This object is of great importance to heaven. I need to retrieve it. As I said, when the apocalypse was adverted many weapons of heaven were stolen by angels. Hence, an angel has this object." His tone was slow and methodic, as if explaining something obvious. "I apologize for assuming that you had enough knowledge to conclude that."

Dean opened his mouth but before he could say anything Sam cut in, "okay. Well, we'll just figure something out then." Sam cast a glance at his brother and sighed before stepping in between them and opening the trunk of the car.

The angel took a step away from them, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he glanced to his right before looking back at them. "I shall go find it." With a light sound of flapping wings and a soft breeze Castiel was gone.

"You guys didn't kiss and make up." Sam spoke up, pulling his duffel bag out of the trunk before he turned, heading towards their room.

Dean grabbed his own bag and closed the trunk, locking it so that if there just happened to be any curious people his weapons were safe, especially from police scrutiny. "We're not really into that." His hand formed a fist and he dig his fingernails in his palms, fighting the onslaught confusing and awakened emotions swirling around inside him.

Rolling his eyes, Sam opened the door to their room and glanced around, making an appreciative grunt before he dropped his duffel bag onto a bed and headed towards the bathroom. When Dean entered the room he formed the same noise as Sam had made and sat down on the unclaimed bed. "You know what I meant." Sam called from the bathroom, watching his brother from the mirror as he washed his face and fixed his hair, pushing it behind his ears.

"The reply still stays the same." Dean replied, his eyes traveling around the cream colored walls with the gold and ivy boarder before he got up and pushed aside one of the sky blue curtains handing from the window. The beds were soft and comfortable with a gold colored comforter and white stitching and more pillows than one person actually needed. Of course he would never admit it, but Dean enjoyed surrounding him with the extra pillows as support and comfort. Something to grab a hold of if needed when the nightmares became too unbearable. And he knew that after his ordeal the past night, he would be needing the comfort and support.

Dean dropped the curtain when Sam exited the bathroom, drying his face with a deep red towel that he threw onto his bed. "So it seems we have some time to spare. What do you want to do?"

"Drink." Dean replied without a second hesitation.

"Figures." Sam rolled his eyes. "We're in Savannah, Georgia, are you sure there is nothing else you want to do?"

That caused the hunter to pause for a second before he shrugged and shook his head. "Nope."

"Not even seeing the old houses or going to the river side boardwalk, hell, even the ocean?" Sam asked, silently pleading for his brother to want to do anything other than drink, play pool, and hit on unsuspecting girls. This had been their way for multiple years.

"It's the east coast, it's the same ocean all along the boarder. You've seen it once, you've seen it a million times." Dean complained as he strode towards the door. He was going to have his drink whether Sam wanted to come or not. A drink would definitely relax him and perhaps stop the confusion he had about his male angel friend, his life, and everything else. He had made his decision, his wants were not important. "Coming, Sam?" Dean asked when he crossed over the threshold of the door.

Sam sighed and followed his brother, closing and locking the door behind him. The walk through downtown Savannah was nice, due to the area, the climate was warm and the men soon found them stripping off their jackets and walking in their t-shirts. After they left the scenic boardwalk Dean found a small pub tucked between two old, brick buildings.

Two hours later Dean and Sam left the bar in rather high spirits, laughter ensuing from Sam's mouth before he took a sip of the beer he was holding. Dean was smiling, feeling happier than he had in a while, the time in the bar was actually a nice bonding time for the brother's and Sam finally realized that Dean was alright and the past hunt hadn't left him destroyed and broken. Dean had been able to convince what he felt for Castiel was a fluke, clinging to his savior in a time of need, just friendship that had built into something strong, but not something that necessarily needed to be acted upon.

Though, after spending a long amount of time in the facility, the brother's had forgotten the path back to their motel. So they traveled down the streets, spending time in the inner area of the rotary circles, talking about the monuments and basking in each other's company.

After contemplating a street that looked familiar, Dean decided to travel down it, pausing when he saw a group that had gathered in front of a small breakfast place. The man speaking was tall and very pale with a gaunt looking face that was surrounded by dark brown curls. As Dean and Sam listened in they realized that the man was reciting some rules and talking about the tour. Glancing around, Dean noticed a young looking girl with long brown hair and bright gray eyes who was wearing a tank top underneath a large, baggy sweatshirt and jeans. Standing next to her was a petite Asian girl with soft, tan skin and dark, short hair. She was wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt and seemed intensely focused on what the man was saying.

The brown haired girl glanced over at him, feeling Dean's scrutinizing gaze upon her. Once Dean realized he had her attention he nodded towards the speaker. "What's going on?"

She shrugged and glanced over at her friend who seemed to not have noticed the intrusion. "Ghost walk around Savannah."

The brothers glanced at each other and shrugged. Why not, it sounded like fun and Dean was up for anything at the moment, especially if it kept his mind off Castiel. The leader turned and crossed the road as the cluster of people followed him. It was a short walk to the first house where they stopped and looked at a house. Dean chuckled when the guide began to talk about it's history, ending it on a positive note by saying the ghost that lived there was actually friendly and enjoyed the company of the human living in there.

Dean couldn't help but snort at that. "Casper, the friendly ghost." He whispered to Sam.

The girl glanced over at him with a questioning glance and Dean just smiled at her and shrugged one shoulder. For a second Dean contemplated introducing himself before he decided to do so. "Dean Winchester." He held his hand out as they began to walk to the next house.

"Annabel, and this is Tori." The girl replied, gesturing to her friend that seemed to be clinging onto her arm, hand encircling Annabel's bicep. Dean nodded as a greeting tot he other girl as they crossed the street, heading through a rotary and down an alley. The guide was talking about the rather expensive and fancy looking houses on Jones street. "That doesn't happen to be Sam, your brother, right?"

Dean glanced over at Sam who was looking at Annabel with a confused look, his eyebrows draw down as he glanced at Dean. "Yeah, I'm Sam."

They turned stopped in front of another house and Annabel smiled, it was bright and to Dean, almost refreshing to see someone that happy and excited. "So I finally get to meet the famous Winchesters. It's been a-" Annabel was cut off as the hand on her arm was squeezed and the guide began to talk about the house they were standing in front of. They listened as the speaker spun a tale of a man who murdered his wife and then jumped out of the window later leading onto two friends playing on the roof until one was mysteriously dragged off the roof by an invisible force and skewered by the points on the fence. Then the house was later owned by a political man who killed his male lover in the study leaving the house empty for years until a man bought it and had a heart attack in the same study. Currently, the man's daughter owns and lives in the house and the guide ushered them on quickly.

As they began walking, Dean turned to Annabel and cleared his throat. "So how do you know us?"

Annabel turned, unzipping her sweatshirt before she pulled it off her small body and handed it to Tori who shrugged herself into it, looking like a lost child in the excess fabric. "My brother, up in Maine. Dustin Carter. He spoke rather highly of you two."

Dean smiled, he remembered Dustin, one of the better hunters he had been partnered with. It was rather fun to kill a coven of thirty-two vampires with him and then go out for a drink and pool afterwards. The guy was rather private about his life, but intelligent and had the logistical skill to get through their hunt without so much as a scratch on any of them. Once they parted ways, Dean and Sam knew they could count on Dustin if ever they needed, he had actually enjoyed riding out the apocalypse but was rather grateful the brothers had ended it, holding no grudge against them.

"We could say the same about him. Great man." Dean replied, his voice slightly gruffer than usual as he stepped around a tree that was planted on the side of the walkway. "Haven't been able to meet up with him since."

"He's rather busy tracking a siren through Austin, I'm sure you guys will meet up again eventually. It seems like working together is too good of an opportunity to miss." Anabel chuckled as her friend pulled her around the corner, almost running into her as Tori stopped suddenly.

Once again the group fell silent as they stared up at the large building made completely of marble and eyes traced the large balconies that projected from each floor. It once belonged to a rather politically twisted judge who up held the laws of the prohibition of alcohol while selling liquor from his cases from his basement. His marriage was in trouble and once night, while they were taking care of their six year old granddaughter there was a terrible fight and the grandfather pushed his wife whose body hit their granddaughter and sent her flying into the marble coffee table. She was dead once she hit the floor. This caused great distress for the father who became involved in illicit drugs. One night he became involved with a woman who was married to a man of high power in the city of Savannah and he had some people beat the father up and string tie him to the house of the judge. Taking him inside, the judge called a doctor down from Maryland to look at his son, not wanting the towns people to talk about what had happened. The doctor arrived three days later just as the son died. Later on, the house became apartments, but each person has left due to the sound of a little girl laughing and a grown man calling for her. Even the priest of the church next door left due to the hauntings of the house. But apparently, that wasn't all that resided in the house. A young girl with a scholarship to the prestigious art college stayed in the house and left the next morning, moving back to North Carolina with out a hesitation. She said that there was a power outage due to a storm and while she lay in bed trying to sleep she heard feet dragging on the carpet of her room, though in the darkness she was unable to see someone in the room with her. Eventually, the girl attempted to ignore the noise assuming that it was something to do with the old house. Only when hands grabbed at her, trying to drag her out of bed did she realized what was happening. As the hands rested on her body she felt herself becoming weaker and weaker, only with one last push was she able to escape the grasp. The girl ran through the house and out into the storming street yelling for help. Assumptions claim that an old Hag was in the room with her and the guide left them with a chilling warning that a Hag has the ability to just wait for many years for their next victim.

That story seemed to pique Sam and Deans interest, watching the house carefully as they passed through a fence that blocked off cars from a construction zone. There was silence in the group but Dean wanted to continue talking to Annabel. "So why aren't you hunting?"

Tori took that moment to speak, her soft voice coming out with a light accent. "You hunt?"

"No, I don't." Annabel shook her head. "I leave that to my brother, my father used to, sometimes he still does."

Tori raised her eyebrow as she slid to hook are arm around Annabel. "What do they hunt?"

"Regular things, you know, birds, deer, the usual." Tori nodded at Annabel's words and she smiled as her friend pulled out her phone to take a picture of one of the nice houses across the street. Dean realized that even people who don't hunt but associate with hunters still have to hide and lie. They keep a part of themselves away because even though they know the evils of the world doesn't mean they have the right to tell others about it. They might not hunt, but their lives are still different than normal, oblivious people. Annabel's gray eyes turned to meet Dean's and the small smile still curled up the corner of her lips, but behind it, Dean could see the heaviness of lying weighing on her. "My father never wanted me to hunt, probably because I was a girl and his youngest child. So he sent me off to boarding school where I roomed with this amazing person." Annabel gestured to Tori. "We both got accepted to Emory University and are roommates there as well. I've been kept in the dark, but since my brother finished high school he's sort of taken up the life and I've learned a lot through him and what little my father will tell me. So to say the least, I've been forced to have a life other than that."

Dean chuckled, glancing at Annabel's roommate, it explained why they seemed to close. At first, Dean thought perhaps with the constant touching the loose hand hold that they might be partners. But after growing up with someone for eight years and having them be their constant companion, it would make them that close. Just like him and Sam. "You're lucky, many would kill for that. But it seems numerous parents of the hunting life do not give their children choices, instead they are forced into what the 'adults' think are right." He didn't mean for it to sound so bitter, but each word seemed to bite into him and drag out in an unusual harmony. He could feel Sam's eyes on him, carefully monitoring his attitude.

"Well, either way, we just have to take what we can and accept everything else. We do not need to suffer, so why should we? I believe that the purpose in life is just to live for today no matter the circumstance. Do what makes you happy, Dean. I'm sure that is all anybody wants." Anabel spoke and once she realized what she had said, a light pink dusted her cheeks with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm blabbering."

"No... no. It's okay." Dean murmured before he let his steps trail behind, leaving him to the back edge of the group.

Sam's phone rang loudly and all eyes turned to him as he fished it out of his pocket, sending an apologizing look towards the guide. "Hello?" Sam answered, turning away from the group as the guide let out an annoyed huff of air and continued walking down the street."Hey, yeah, we're on Abercorn street, near house 29."

They listened, but hear nothing to signal the arrival of Castiel, instead, the angel stepped out of an alley, his hair slightly ruffled from the flight and his trench coat flowing behind him as he walked up to the brothers. He glanced around as saw the group of people ahead of them. "Uh, what are you doing here?" He asked, his deep voice rumbling and echoing on the street around them. Dean assumed that Castiel had looked in the motel room for them and had been surprised to find them elsewhere.

"Enjoying Savannah. You find it?" Dean asked, turning to catch up with the group before he realized that they would be leaving to help Castiel.

The angel nodded following behind Dean, his black shoes hitting on the uneven brick sidewalk. "I have located the item."

Sam caught up with them, pushing some of his hair behind his ear as he looked over at the two men. "So when are we going?"

"At the moment, it would be inconvenient to pursue the object, we must wait a few hours." Castiel replied, his deep voice attracting the glance of Tori and Annabel. "But when the time is right I shall transport us and the car to our destination."

Dean smiled, that meant they could finish the tour. Even as bogus as it seemed, Dean was enjoying doing something semi-normal for once. Granted it involved ghosts and evil spirits and stories that were most likely fake with reports that were forged, but the fact that he was spending time with Sam and talking to Annabel who seemed like a person with a solid head on her shoulders was nice and refreshing. "Alright, well, come finish the tour with us, Cas." Dean invited his friend along before he turned to Annabel and gestured at the newcomer. "This is Castiel, Annabel."

Surpise was written plainly on her face as her eyes widened and her lips parted. "Castiel, as in the angel Castiel?"

Chuckling, Dean replied, "the one and only."

"Wow..." She breathed before their attention was turned to the guide as he pointed up to a large building.

It was a hospital back in its prime, housing the sick and the mentally insane. When Yellow Fever broke out they dug a tunnel that lead to the next rotary center and buried the dead in a tomb since it was illegal to have the grave of the people sick with Yellow Fever inside the city limits. Unfortunately, 666 people died from the sickness and over four hundred were buried in the tomb. Years later the large fountain was built on top, the city oblivious to the fact that they were marking a tomb with a memorial. There have often ben sightings of a woman in white, with long black hair and black eye sockets in a window causing the police to come and investigate every time there is a sighting.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other at that, their interest piquing as the man told a story about how a woman was taking photographs on a tour and in one of them she had captured the woman with the hand placed on the window as she stared out of it with a forlorn expression. Castiel eyes seemed to be roving the building, causing Dean to be curious about what the angel might be seeing.

The building was under construction that was supposed to be completed by the past August, but due to inconveniences and accidents the project was put on hold indefinitely.

As they began to walk again to the last house on the tour Sam turned towards Castiel and cleared his throat. "So why do we have to wait?"

"It is a mater I do not wish to speak about publicly. You will understand once we arrive." The angel replied, casting once glance over his shoulder at the hospital. "That is an evil place, full of hatred and loss." He whispered so that only the brothers could hear him. "There is nothing for anyone there now. No one can do anything to save it. Misfortune and ailment flow through the air that surround the place."

The brothers glanced at each other, before they focused on the walkway beneath their feet. Annabel and Tori were talking about their classes ahead, lamenting about the homework they would have to do after their short break was over. All Dean could focus on was the angel beside him.

"Listen, Cas," Dean started, his hand running through his short hair as he searched for the words to say. "I'm sorry about forcing us to take the car."

Castiel shook his head, some of his hair falling in front of his face. "I understand, Dean. I did not mean to be so crude to you earlier. There are some things about human etiquette that I am still learning, but I thank you for your help."

Dean smiled, feeling like a burden had been relieved from him. The feelings inside him seemed to swell and swirl around and for once he felt truly happy. His shoulders relaxed and he let of a soft, cheerful sigh. Upon looking up, he saw Annabel watching them carefully, a knowing smile playing lightly on her lips. She slowed down her steps, dragging Tori along with her as she stood next to Dean. "Isn't it nice to be happy?" She whispered, looking up at the hunter who just shook his head with a small smile.

The last house was on a rotary and the guide didn't let them cross the street to see the house, instead they stayed a safe distance away. The house was built for a commander in the Confederate army. When they lost the war the man returned home, broke, and with a daughter and a wife to support. His daughter enjoyed going out and playing with the children that attended the school next door. Her father grew upset and violent that she was playing with colored children and tied her to chair overlooking the outside so she would learn that it was inappropriate to play with such children. After three days she passed away from heat stroke. Years later the house was bought by a family with two daughters. When they went out to dinner with another family with two daughters they left the children in the house. Upon return the parents found three of their daughters lying in a triangle, head to foot with the other one, and their stomachs cut open. The youngest was found cowering in her room and she inherited the house from her parents. Still today, the house remains empty, the woman lives in Maine and will not let anyone enter the house due to the evil spirits that linger there.

The guide continued on, talking about a young man that he was training for the job. The man didn't actually believe in such beings, it was just a way to pay his college tuition. When they were at the house he kicked a brick out of place and he felt something cling to him, claiming that the house should stay the way it is, nothing should be touched or moved. The being took him over and the man quit his job a short while later, having reoccurring nightmares. He had done everything he could to appease the being, even putting the stone back into place, seeing a priest. Eventually the man just accepted that he was now bound to the being.

Dean tried to keep in his laughter at the story, drawing the attention of Sam, Castiel and Annabel. It was a short walk back to the original meeting area and Annabel turned to Tori and murmured. "We parked our car right next to that house."

Tori froze, her eyes going wide as she glanced at the silver car parked there. "We're going to die aren't we? Did anything attach itself to me?"

"No, Tori, your fine." Annabel rolled her eyes a playful smile on her face. Tori moved up against Annabel, fear prominent in her face as she began to furiously glance around her. When they arrived at the meeting spot Annabel turned to the three men. "So are you guys on a hunt?"

"No, we're just traveling for today." Sam answered while Dean shook his head. "Why, you know of one around here?"

Annabel hesitated, pursing her lips before she began to speak. "I'm not sure. Men are falling into a fevered coma in this city, but it could also be a sickness that is going around. It sort of looked like something supernatural to me, but I'm not an expert at all." When she glanced at the brothers she began to backtrack due to their expressions. "I'm sure it's nothing at all." Tori gently tugged on Annabel's arm, glancing down the street to where their car was located. "Oh, well, it was nice meeting you all."

"You too." Sam replied, placing a hand lightly on Annabel's shoulder before they turned away to walk to their car. Dean waved at small goodbye at them, replaying the important parts of their conversation together. Turning to Castiel, Sam asked, "so when would be a good time to go?"

"We need to wait a little while, Sam." Dean answered for Castiel, shoving his hands down into his jean pockets and turning to walk in the opposite direction. They still had no clue where they were in Savannah, but the hunter hoped that some landmark would appear and they would remember the way back to their hotel.

Sleep would be the proper course of action for the two humans, but Dean was in no rush to bid the waking world a farewell, currently, everything seemed to be sliding in place for once and Dean feared that by morning nothing would ever make sense again. He wanted to keep onto the clarity while he had it, before anything else could happen that would destroy what he had worked so hard for.

A street lamp flicked overhead as they passed underneath it, the streets rapidly emptying due to the late hour. They walked along in silence, the only noise between the three of them were their shoes hitting the brick walkway beneath them. Soft chatter could be heard ahead, causing them to glance up to see a group of scantily clad women. Even from the distance Dean could tell that they were prostitutes looking for some work in the late hours. Glancing over at Castiel, Dean could see that the angel was not fazed by the women in front of them at all, except that his head was tilted slightly. It made sense since all through the history of mankind sex had always been sold.

It was uncomfortable passing through them, but they made it through the group who seemed more focused on the cars passing by then the three men walking past them. A few offered them their services, listing their prices and acting coy while they tried to advertise their body. After passing through the women Dean reached out and corrected the angel's slightly crooked tie from where a woman had grabbed onto it and played with the cloth in order to get his attention. A small chuckle left Dean's lips as he patted Castiel on the back, taking in his slightly frightened face and wide eyes at the women who were attempting to seduce him.

Soft humming reached their ears, a beautiful melody sung by a sweet voice drifted around them and they looked around, attempting to ascertain the person creating such a melodic sound. Dean focused on a woman with tan skin and long, black hair that flowed over her shoulders in small waves, ending just below her waist. The left side of her hair was pinned back behind her ear by an old, but rather intricate looking comb made of what Dean could only fathom to be made of mahogany wood with very thin, and sharp looking teeth. She had a curvacious body and was slightly taller than the average women, wearing a black, strapless cocktail dress that ended just above her knees but accentuated her assets. Chocolate brown eyes surveyed the three beings in front of her, plump, pink lips curling up in a smile when her eyes landed on Castiel.

She almost seemed to glide forward, her hand reaching out for Castiel, golden bangles slipping down her slim wrists with a soft clatter. The humming continued as she took the angel's hand into her own, her palm moving against the back of his hand, her thumb rubbing a circle into his palm before it slid up to encircle his wrist. The woman glanced up from their hands and carefully watched the reaction in Castiel's bright blue eyes.

As quickly as it had happened, the woman pulled her hand away, brushing past them but not before she reached up and cupped the side of Castiel's face in her hand, letting her fingers slip across the stubbled skin as she walked away, the humming leaving with her.

It was as if the presence of the woman caused them to be transfixed because once she was gone Sam and Dean glanced at each other with a bewildered expression, their eyes finally leaving the woman. Movement from Castiel brought their attention to their friend and they watched him raise the hand that the woman had touched, the street lamp reflecting a dim yellow light on his skin, casting a sallow, sickly color across it. Hesitant fingers that seemed to shake with some unknown force fumbled around on the back of his hand, pinching skin between his fingers as the angel pulled a thin and long needle from underneath his skin.

Sam took a step back when he saw what Castiel had produced from his body, holding the needle between two fingers before he let it go, eyes following the object's decent. Dean worriedly watched the angel, taking a step forward and placing his hand onto Castiel's shoulder. "Cas, you alright?" Leaning forward, he took in Castiel's change in demeanor. His face had gone deathly white, and even in the crude light he could see the sweat beading on the angel's forehead. The pupils in the usual blue eyes had dilated, filling the iris to the edge, obliterating the usual sapphire color. He seemed to have hunched forward, breath heaving in and out of the body in labored gasps. Dean could feel extreame heat radiating from the angel's skin to Dean's hand, even through the multiple layers he was wearing. "Cas...?"

"Dean..." The word seemed to come strangled from Castiel's mouth, as if it hurt to force the word out. He turned his head, his dilated pupil's focusing on Dean's worried green eyes. A primal growl escaped the angel's lips and Dean felt hands grab the front of his shirt and slam his back into the wall of the brick building next to him and then a body press up again his.

* * *

A/N: Holla, cliff hanger. Sorry. This chapter was originally going to be longer, but I cut a lot of dialogue out since I figured no one would want to read about Sam being interested in Annabel and all this extra stuff.

Thank you **WHY**, **lionesspuma**, **Lopithecus**, **MaTcHBoOkPoEt**, **Fulminata**, **meh**, **NightAngel97**, **mylia11**, **PrincessOfDarkness3007** (see, see!), **aishaduh**, **CashyHoray1.00**, **Perry123**, **XClaire BearX**, **StarkidSherlockSlytherin**, **StoryWriterOfAll-101**, **shavra**, **Hannio**, **FireChildSlytherin5**, and **My Dead Love** for commenting.

For your prize you get a chocolate mould of your favorite Supernatural Character. At first I was going to say a chocolate mould of something else entirely, but thats way too unsanitary. I don't know. I think I was thinking of a penis. A chocolate penis. Of a Supernatural character. That would be awkward. Maybe. I'm tired. I haven't a clue what I'm saying.

Goodnight. I love you. Thank you.

Do not worry... I'll fix this in the morning... ish...

guhh.


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, **M**.  
**Warning: **Sexual Content and Consent Issues at the beginning.

**A/N: **Oops... a week late. Gosh I suck at updating. I promise the next one will be out in a week. I could give you excuses and reasons as to why this one is late, but I know no one wants to hear them.

Uhm, I apologize for the authors note on the last chapter. Wow. I swear I wasn't on anything, I was just tired. I'm tired tonight as well, so I apologize for any weirdness. Special thanks to **lionesspuma **whose a super special helper by pointing out typos and such. No. She's mine. You can't have her. Well, actually, I guess it's up to her... him... it? Yup. Wait... lioness... her.

Oookaaay, anyways. Enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Thirteen

Even though the air was forced out of Dean by the violent shove against the wall, he couldn't help but notice the proximity of Castiel, the way the angel's body was pushed up against his. It took a few seconds for his vision to clear, the back of his head aching where it came in contact with the hard stone wall. Castiel's breathing was loud and ragged to Dean's ears and the angel's hands were pressing through his shirt and into his skin hard enough to leave bruises. It would feel rather intimate in the way Castiel was leaning his whole body against him, their waists and chest pressed together, but at the moment the hunter was bewildered and confused by his friends sudden actions. As Castiel's hands loosened from Dean's shirt and flattened, his palms resting against Dean's chest, the hunter regained his vision, suddenly seeing Castiel's face mere inches away from him, usual blue irises filled by the dark black of his pupils, face pale and lips parted.

"Cas?" Dean croaked, his own hands coming up to push against the angel's shoulder, feeling uncomfortable by Castiel's vicinity. It was a hopeless cause, trying to push an angel of the Lord away when he seemed so driven, the order to complete a goal weighting on his soldier-like mind.

Glancing over Castiel's shoulder, Dean saw Sam standing a few feet away from them with a confused and surprised expression on his face. The youngest Winchester reached out to place a hand on Castiel's shoulder, putting some pressure in hope of dragging the angel away from Dean. In a quick movement, Castiel moved his arm off of Dean's chest and pressed two fingers to Sam's forehead. Sam tried to dodge the impending hand, but before he could push the angel's arm away he crumpled to the sidewalk.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, his eyes turning back to Castiel who had continued watching him through the whole action. "Cas? Cas, what's wrong? Come on, talk to me, man." Fear had crept into his voice. His brother was unconscious on the ground and his friend was currently looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face, the warmth from his fevered body issuing through his clothes and pressing in against Dean's own skin.

"Dean... Dean Winchester." Castiel's throaty, deep voice rasped just a few inches away from his ear, hot breath landing on Dean's skin and causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. The angel's right hand slid up Dean's chest, coming to rest over the hand print that had been burned into Dean skin when Castiel had pulled the hunter from Hell. He wouldn't admit it, but Dean missed the handprint sometimes, the reminder that he was alive and that someone had fought for him, thought he was worth going through hell and back, literally, for. "I marked you. I dragged you from hell and my hand was seared into you. Do not think that you, alone, retained anything from another in Hell. I received some of your soul while carrying you through the twisted labyrinth of forsaken waste and sin."

With what strength Dean had, he tried to push at Castiel's shoulder, bearing no movement of the angel's body. Noticing the pressure upon his shoulder Castiel moved his other hand off Dean's chest, grabbing the hunter's wrist and pinning it to the wall above him. "If anyone should lay claim to your body, it should be me." The deep growl resonated from the angel's body as he spoke the possessive words into Dean's ear.

Placing Dean's arm over their heads gave Castiel better leverage as well as the ability to stretch his body along Dean's, pressing him harder against the brick wall. Granted, Castiel was doing what Dean had asked of him, talking about what was wrong, but he never expected to hear such twisted words come out of his friends mouth. "Cas..." Dean panted, trying to speak against pressure. "I have free will, this is my body. Just... let me go." His body felt cold despite the heat radiating from the angel, fear twisted in his stomach, but he couldn't help but feel calm over the rising panic, knowing that Castiel would never intentionally hurt him.

"No." The word was sharp, laced with anger and possessiveness. "Dean..." Castiel whispered softly, deep seeded desire echoing against the wall and bouncing around the dim street. "I just..." It seemed as if the angel was out of words to say, but something drove him forward as he pressed his lips to Dean's neck.

Castiel's lips were soft against Dean's skin and the area they touched seemed to tingle, his body reacting to the press of skin against him. It only lasted a second before Castiel pulled away and gently nipped the hunter's collarbone, causing Dean to jump in surprise, letting out a suppressed moan. As if sensing Dean's response to his action's the angel bit harder, careful not to break skin, his teeth sinking into Dean and lightly scraping against the bone. "Stop, Castiel, please..." Dean pleaded, closing his eyes because he had no desire to see his friend in this way. Knowing that because of what had happened, Castiel wanted him from the woman's volition. This was not the angel acting on his own free will. He didn't want to think about how this would stir up his emotions and if this might ever happen if Castiel was lucid.

But instead of stopping Castiel licked up the side of Dean's neck, his tongue flicking out over the reddened mark he had made on the human's collarbone. Warmth seemed to radiate from the touch, and against Dean's conscious wishes, he tilted his head to give better access to Castiel.

"This isn't you." Dean hissed as Castiel began to kiss along his jaw, lips briefly making contact with the shadow of stubble before they pulled away to place another kiss alongside it. Dean tilted his head back to evade the light kisses only to cause the angel to growl and bite the underneath of his jaw, sucking on the skin and nibbling it.

A soft humming came out of Castiel's mouth, vibrating against the skin before he let it go. Leaning back a little, he relieved some of the pressure off Dean who instantly found himself missing the warmth. "How do you know this isn't me, Dean?" The hunter could feel the vibrations from Castiel voice against his own chest. A dress pant clad leg slipped in between Dean's own two legs, pressing the angel's hip into the hunter's groin, eliciting a soft moan from him.

"No." Dean moaned out as Castiel's knee began to travel up the side of Dean's legs, pushing them apart with a soft nudge. "This isn't you. I know you."

Castiel froze, his leg still pushing against Dean who finally opened his eyes taking in the aroused look on Castiel's face, lust dilating the pupils to the outer most ring of the iris. "You don't know me, Dean. Don't assume." Silence reigned between them, the only noise was the angel's ragged breathing, hot and heavy against Dean's cheeks, tinting them a light shade of pink. "Everything is so intense. You're so bright. So vibrant. Your soul pierces through the darkness of evil and shines like a beacon."

Confusion swept over Dean's face at the words, the more Castiel talked the less sense he made. There was a part of him that didn't want to stop Castiel's actions, a small part of him knowing that this would be the only chance he would get at feeling this close to the angel. Feeling some sense of comfort and love from him. But there was also the part that knew he would regret taking advantage of Castiel in this state. He was trying to heed the angel's words, trying not to assume anything from him.

Light pink tongue ran across Castiel's lips as he wetted them, dark eyes boring into Dean's green ones. A change seemed to pass over his face and he parted his lips as if deciding whether to speak or not. "Dean..." The word was choked, barely uttered and the human had to strain in order to realize it was his name. "I don't know what's happening." The angel's shoulders had started to hunch over, moving with every breath of air that passed in and out of his mouth. "I can't control..."

Dean waited for him to continue but nothing more came instead the hand holding his wrist began to squeeze. So hard it made Dean flinch in pain and try to pull his wrist out of Castiel's grasp. He glanced up at his hand and when he returned his gaze to Castiel's face it was hard to remember that there had ever been a change.

"You're hurting me." Dean winced as he felt some of his bones begin to grind together. His words went unnoticed by Castiel whose eyes were focused on the side of Dean's neck, as if hypnotized by the bruise that was forming from the bite mark.

"Don't tell me you're ignoring it as well." Castiel's voice rasped as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Dean's collarbone, over the bite mark before his eyes flicked up, meeting Dean's vibrant green ones.

A small shiver passed through Dean as he stared down at Castiel in an intimate position. Slightly lower than him, but still rather close, lust filled eyes watching him carefully as if begging to be allowed to go lower. Submissive with a hint of power that could throw off the balance of the duo.

"I-ignoring what?" Dean stammered, relief washing through him as the pressure on his wrist seemed to vanish, instead fingers traced down his skin and over his shirt before they rested on Dean's waist. Castiel didn't bother to answer his question before his teeth hooked on the collar of Dean's shirt as he dragged it down. His lips and teeth trailing down the hunter's skin causing him to push his lower back off the wall and up against the angel.

A small gasp left Dean's lips as he felt Castiel's erection move against him. Surprise at the feeling and the realization his own arousal had Dean trying to move his waist away from Castiel, but the angel had taken advantage of the space between Dean and the wall and slipped his hand behind the hunter, fingers digging into his ass. At the movements of their waists Castiel pressed into Dean with his leg, his thigh creating pressure against the hunter's erection just as Castiel let go of Dean's shirt and bit down into his shoulder.

An uncontrollable moan left Dean's lips as he slammed the back of his head against the wall at the mixture of pain and pleasure, hips thrusting forward and pressing against Castiel's own erection. With a gasp at the feeling against his penis, the angel bucked into Dean's waist, seeming to enjoy the newfound pleasure that it brought and the hunter couldn't help but smile as he moved his leg a little, letting it rub against Castiel. The small action caused the angel to moan and pull away from Dean's shoulder, panting slightly before he kissed up to Dean's neck.

Castiel lightly kissed Dean's neck before he pulled his lips back and bit gently, pulling the skin into his mouth and sucking on it. Dean let his hand drop from the position it had stayed in over their head's and let his fingers entangle in the mess of black hair, urging Castiel on. At the encouragement, the dark haired man moved his waist against Dean's, letting their erections rub across one another before they returned to pressed against each other's thigh, eliciting a string of quiet swear words from the hunter at the thrilling feeling. Strong fingers kneeded Dean's ass, adding the small factor of pain to the immense pleasure he was feeling.

Leaving Castiel's hair, Dean's hand dropped to Castiel's waist, thumb tracing lightly over the prominent hip bone before it moved around and grabbed Castiel's ass, pulling him up against him while adjusting so that their erections would move against each others. Thrusting up against Castiel, using his hand for leverage caused Dean to gasp with pleasure while Castiel moaned against his skin.

By now Dean had thrown caution to the wind, his primal instinct kicking in for the need of sex, of pleaure. Something was telling him that this was a bad idea, but by the first thrust Castiel had made against his denim clad erection, the hunter had been able to ignore the voice. There would be eventual hell to pay from when Castiel would come out of this stupor. But this would be the only chance Dean would ever have of being happy, of being close, loved, and needed. This would fuck up his emotions and the things he had been trying to hide, been trying to ignore and forget. So Dean tried to reason to himself that maybe this would help, that maybe once this was all over with he would realized that the angel was just someone that filled the void. Like so many countless others. It wasn't like he hadn't slept with other women hunters and eventually worked with them later on. It would be the same with Castiel. Something drew Dean to him, and perhaps after this was all done with, they could forget about it and continue on. A small glitch in the proverbial road that he seemed to be traveling all his life.

For now, Dean knew that Castiel was giving him exactly what he wanted and needed. Other than that, the hunter felt like he knew nothing, that he was lost.

Although, the longer Dean stayed in Castiel's embrace, the closer he felt to peace and happiness. And for once, Dean figured he could be happy for a few minutes, even if it ended with his world crashing down around him. Sammy was safe, Bobby was safe. Castiel wasn't. And that needed to be Dean's primary focus, but the more the angel's lips caressed his skin, the more the angel moved against him, kept Dean wishing that this moment would never end.

A hand moving from Dean's shoulder to cup the nape of his neck was what brought Dean back to reality, the other hand moving to the side of his waist before Castiel pushed back against Dean, shoving him back up against the brick wall. Nimble fingers hooked under the waistband of his jeans, hot skin touching Dean's, alerting him to the intense temperature differences between their bodies. Castiel felt as if a fever was running through his body, burning him up from the inside. He shivered and instinctively tried to pull away from the burning heat but Castiel's strong grip kept him in place.

The angel's fingers rested at the front of his jean's, thumb playing with the sliver button before he pushed it through the small hole. "Are you still ignoring it, Dean?" Castiel asked after he had kissed the large bruise he had made on Dean's neck. Despite the inner conflict Dean was going through he couldn't help but shiver at the words. They meant nothing to him, but they were coated in lust and the rough and the deep way Castiel had said them caused Dean to want to claim Castiel's lips with his own.

"I-I don't kn-know!" Dean stammered as Castiel unzipped his pants, the metallic sound issuing between their ragged breathing, placing pressure on Dean's penis. "What am I ignor-" The rest of the sentence was enveloped in a moan as Castiel's hand slipped into Dean's jean's and cupped his erection through his boxers.

"You want this." It was a statement but Dean felt the need to answer. He wasn't even sure what 'this' was.

"Fuck, yes." Castiel's lips turned up into a smile, but Dean couldn't help but notice the changes in the angel from when he first began behaving oddly. Dark circles had gathered under the now bloodshot eyes. Sweat beaded his brow and his normally pink lips had turned a light shade of blue. "Cas?" The hunter questioned. "Are you alright?"

Dark eyes turned to look up at Dean from under thick lashes as a rattling breath passed out of Castiel's mouth. "That is a rather stupid question." The hand on the back of Dean's neck moved down to grip his waist tightly, fingers digging into the skin so hard that it would leave bruises.

As Castiel sank to the ground arousal seeped through Dean at the view. Castiel's eyes never left his as he placed himself in a submissive and intimate position. Though Dean knew that Castiel wasn't being submissive at all, he was the one who had all the control and power. He was the one who was controlling Dean's pleasure and actions just by what he did. But right now, no one had the dominance, just the desire to please each other as best as they could.

Warm breath passed across Dean's erection, dimmed some from the boxers that covered his penis, the hand on his waist seemed to burn with the same raging fire that was consuming Castiel. Fingers fumbled with Dean's waistband, attempting to pull the denim down Dean's legs to further expose him. It was then that Dean realized the noticeable shake that seemed to be passing through Castiel's body. The angel broke eye contact his head dropping down as he stared at the cobblestone sidewalk.

The hand that was holding his erection seemed to burn at a hotter temperature than before.

"Cas?" Dean moaned at the friction that the shaking hand brought against him. Reaching down, the hunter grabbed Castiel's chin and titled his head up almost jumping back at what he saw.

The angel's blue eyes where shaking, roving around in their sockets as the eyelids fluttered. Castiel's hands dropped from Dean's body to support himself on the ground, freeing the hunter from the restraints that bound him previously. Dean instantly dropped to his knees, carefully watching the angel who was on his hands and knees, before he placed a hand on Castiel's back.

Castiel threw his head back, eyes staring blankly at the dark sky overhead before he uttered, "Dean." His body gave out and he sprawled to the ground, head bouncing against the stone before his body began to convulse.

Frantically, Dean rolled Castiel over onto his back and pinned him down as his body writhed against the sidewalk, limbs thrashing, and incoherent noises leaving the angel's mouth. Fear was prevalent on Dean's face and he felt guilty as well as selfish. He could have insisted that Castiel back off, that they halt their sexual ministrations in order to find out what was wrong with him and eventually help him. He should have never let it get this far. Biting his lip so hard that he drew blood, Dean whispered comforting words to the damage body beneath him.

He should have know. He wasn't meant to be happy because that would only hurt the people he loved and cared about.

The people he loved.

Dean shook his head, now was not the time. It was his fault that Castiel was in this position. First it was the car and now it was the sexual acts. Dean moved a hand up to smooth some dark hair off of Castiel's forehead. He should never go for what he wanted, he had priorities that he needed to stick to. Diverting from them would only cause harm, this instance proved it.

The body seemed to twist underneath him for ages before just tremors ran through the body, causing it to jump every so often. When Dean was sure Castiel wouldn't hurt himself he pushed himself off of the angel. Eyes darted back and forth underneath closed lids, harsh panting raised the angel's chest, moving air through parted lips. The skin was still pale and sallow looking, hollow cheeks and dark circles under the eyes. Reaching over, Dean placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder and gently shook, trying to wake the angel.

Dean rested the back of his palm against Castiel's temple and felt the fever his friend was harboring inside him. After a few more failed attempts to wake Castiel, Dean pushed himself up to his feet and fixed his pants and shirt before he stepped over to Sam.

"Come on, Sammy. Wake up." Dean growled, roughly shaking the shoulder of his brother. After a second try Sam groggily opened his eyes and sat up, hand reaching for his shoulder where he cut it on the cobblestones when he fell.

The younger brother's hazel eyes turned to look at Castiel, taking in the labored breathing and the sickly complexion. "What happened?"

Dean stood, holding his hand out to his sibling to help pull him up. "I'll explain later, just help me get Mr. Comatose back to the motel room."

For once, Sam didn't ask any questions and it seemed he didn't even notice Dean's flushed state. They each grabbed an arm of Castiel and hauled him up, slinging an arm around each shoulder as they hauled him through the streets of Savannah. This time they wasted no time getting back to their motel, asking the first person they saw with the excuse that their friend had too much to drink and had passed out. At the late hour of night the streets were practically empty, the only places that were busy were the local coffee shops full of college aged kids cramming for their projects due the next day.

After a short walk the brothers found themselves at the motel with the comforting sight of the Impala parked in front of their room. Sam fumbled with the key before he got the door opened, flicking on the light as they dragged the angel across the threshold and dropped him onto the bed closest to the door, his legs dangling over the side of the mattress.

With a small sigh, Sam wiped the sweat that had gathered on his brow from the heat and the extra burden they were carrying around before he turned to his brother and raised his brows. "So, I think now's a good time for you to tell me what I missed."

* * *

**A/N:** Buhduhduhhhh.

Have some soft core porn(if that's what it even is) that was hard to write, I give up. Writing the torture scene was a billion times easier. Sorry if it wasn't good, maybe the oncoming smut is better!

So, what do you guys think is wrong with Castiel?

Thank you **Chuck Norris, Why, PrincessOfDarkness3007, jo-tries-to-write, StoryWriterOfAll-101, Lopithecus, SilentMelodies13, Larkafree, sonreirbot, lionesspuma, Elodus, peter, NolesGirlElle, Silverian1691, winchester1423, AllTheLosers, Perry123, NightAngel97, aishaduh, shavra, Kalia Devereaux, mylia11, I Can Dig Elvis, FireChildSlytherin5, Guest, silken touch** for commenting.

For that you get a unicorn... because who doesn't want a unicorn. And one lucky unicorn owner will have one with rainbows. No assembly required. I promise I'll get more ideas for these.

I'm adding in a chapter because I felt like it. Since Castiel is... well, unconscious, I figured, hey... how about a dream chapter. So yeah. I'm going to add that in. So if you review feel free to put a word in your review, if you want to. Any word. And I will somehow work it into the chapter, if I can't, then you get a virtual prize. I'm kinda excited about this.


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After

**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman

**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel

**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG.

**Warning: **None

**A/N: **Oops. Sorry. Got caught up. I know, more excuses. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it's incredible lateness. But Do not fear, this story will be finished!

Long chapter ahead, I decided the break down Castiel's dreams into different chapters or else it would be huge. So the words will be in this chapter or the next ones from Castiel's point of view. The words that were given to me will be italicized.

Enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Fourteen

Warmth. Like a fire was coursing through his veins, burning him up from the inside and flowing out through the night's air. There was no control, just a burning desire to claim the man before him as his own. He had the right, he deserved it. Emotions were coming to light, powerful and raw as the energy that surrounded him from his grace. These were not dulled by all the millennia he had lived. They were so powerful that it made Castiel sick to his stomach. But worst of all he had no control. Just the primal instincts and urges that his father had given to humans but had forgotten to give to angels. After all, angels were soldiers who fought for a cause. Humans were something grown out of a petri dish. An experiment that his father had grown to love. And in that way, so had Castiel. After all, if his father loved them then why shouldn't he?

Granted, not all his brethren saw it from his point of view. Imperfections. And with those it made each specimen unique.

But this? This was too much. Everything was twisting around. His head pounded with an unrecognizable force taking over his mind. Dampening his hypothalamus and controlling his actions. Seeing Dean in front of him was interesting. Especially watching his reactions to his body's actions. His responses to Castiel's control.

It was wrong. He knew that much and could decipher what was happening in his muddled mind. Breaking through the rapidly building wall between him and reality was difficult. Finding a weak area to push through resulted in jerky movements and labored words. Words that seemed to take Dean time to decipher. Time he did not have.

Cold stone collided with his warm knees, sending a jolt of pain and confusion through him as shaky fingers fumbled with Dean's pants, driven by a force that was not of his own. He felt lost and powerless, his own freewill ripped from him. The torn area as painful as when he first fell. Everything he had worked so hard for was taken from him. This was unfair. It was not the way it was supposed to be. But here he was, his body moving with the mind of another, forcing him to perform acts on his friend. Granted, the feeling of Dean's soft and trembling skin against his lips was not at all unpleasant. And he was sure at any other point in time he would revel in this, right now these lustful acts felt as dirty and wrong as sinning.

This man in front of him. He had changed everything about Castiel and the angel was forever grateful to him.

His body was urging him on, primal instinct causing him to shake with adrenaline and stimulation. He could feel his own erection straining against his clothes. His mind was intoxicated from the pleasure that Dean had made him feel previously. It was nothing like he had ever experienced and Castiel was sure that part of it was because of the hunter who had done that to him, made him feel that way. Part of him wanted more, wanted to continue on with the sexual actions and to throw himself head first into the whirling confusion in his mind, figuring it out on the way. While another part of him realized that what they were doing was inappropriate. Castiel was forcing Dean into this position even if the human had given his consent, making its way through to him. And everything he was feeling, he needed to figure it out, especially if it was brought on by the decision of someone else.

Sharp pain radiated up from Castiel's hand and suddenly he felt himself spinning out of control. He was barely conscious as his body fell to the ground, tremors causing his muscles to tense and then relax as he writhed against the darkness, trying to fight off the unrelenting foe.

There was intense pressure on him and he felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't escaped. Pinned down, Castiel closed his eyes as the darkness overtook him.

_Thy kingdom come, thy will be done_

Silence surrounded them as Castiel was thrown backwards against a solid object. Chains wrapped about him, pulling him taunt against the darkness. Frantic eyes searched for anything, but nothing could be seen as the darkness pressed in against him, suffocating him. The bindings jingled as he fought against them, fear overtaking his senses.

Struggle as he might, Castiel soon realized that he was held fast without any chance to escape. With one final pull he slumped, a soft growl leaving his lips as he lost all hope.

A blue light suddenly caught the angel's attention as he glanced up at the small orb that was floating amid the darkness. A clear liquid rested inside it, swaying every time the orb moved. The liquid gave off a bright blue glow that lit up the area, showing that nothing more than darkness rested beyond them.

'C_ome..._' A voice seemed to ring out in Castiel's head, the orb floating a few inches closer.

The chains slithered across his body and returned to where they had come from, leaving him free to move.

'_Come..._' The orb said again and Castiel obeyed.

_If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord, my soul to take._

Heavy breathing and the erratic beating of wings filled Castiel's ears as his hands connected with a body and pushed them up against the wall, an angel blade digging precariously into the demons throat. The smell of fire and sulfur surrounded him, strong enough to make him want to gag, but his orders, his drive to succeed kept him focused on his task.

"Where is he?" The angel yelled, his voice making the demon quiver and shake before him. "Where is the righteous man?"

The deformed body of the demon raised one hand and pointed in a direction. Castiel allowed his eyes to flicker towards where the demon was showing him before he nodded and pressed the blade into the demons throat, efficiently slicing through and killing the creature.

Castiel flapped his wings and raised up in the air before he kicked off the wall to propel himself forward with blinding speed. Hell was hectic, it was confusing. A labyrinth. They had left many of their brethren in the beginning, holding off the hordes that were trying to chase them through Hell. The numbers were dwindling as more and more were held behind and fewer continued onward. He could feel the three that were still with him flying close behind in a small formation so they could protect each other.

A cry of surprise caused them to turn and see three demons clinging onto the wings of Perpetiel as he spiral downwards, fighting to stay afloat and to toss the demons off.

"We must continue on!" Yemaya yelled, turning away from Perpetiel as she continued down the slope, leading them deeper into Hell. Castiel and Ecanus turned to follow her.

The other male angel shook his head as he glanced back at Perpetiel. This was what the angel would have wanted, for them to continue onwards since he was too far away to save. "We have lost the angel of success. I fear we will not triumph."

"Ecanus." Castiel hissed at his words before he sped up, following close behind Yemaya as they traveled towards their destination. They had spent so much time in Hell that their grace had dwindled being too far from their host and Heaven. Time had blurred together and Castiel could not tell how long they had spent in this forsaken land. But it did not matter, they were here for a reason and they would obey their orders until the end. It was what needed to be done.

A high pitch noise passed through all of Hell as if they were celebrating. Each angel felt the tug and the knowledge that the first seal had broken. The apocalypse was beginning. It was as if a large hole had been opened in them, a numb pain filling them. The three angels lost control for a moment and plummeted down into Hell, trying to regain their flight while battling the tug they were feeling.

Ecanus was the first to regain flight, swooping down to grab onto Yemaya as she passed by him. They flew up to rejoin Castiel who was floating in mid air, breathing hard at the sensation of the first seal being opened. It was then that he vowed to never let another seal break.

Once they had regained their bearings they continued onwards, a bit slower than before as their grace had been weakened. Castiel spread his damaged and beaten wings out, feeling the sore muscles tense under the pressure just as something slammed into him from behind, claws digging into his shoulders as he flipped over to see his attacker.

Yemaya and Ecanus turned, frozen still at the sight.

"Go!" Castiel yelled as another creature joined the first, pushing Castiel down towards the ground below. "Go, now!"

His back hit the ground just as the other two angels took off, flying towards the deeper parts of Hell. A small scream of agony left Castiel as the creature's claws dug deep into him, scratching at the surface of his grace. Castiel kicked up, feeling his feet make contact with the demon and send him flying off him. He may still be low on grace, but he was still strong. Before the other creature could pin him down, Castiel flew up, hovering above them, holding the angel blade out as a warning. With a snarl the first creature darted at him, his shoulder coming into contact with Castiel's stomach.

All the air left him, causing him to gasp in hot, smoky air before he slashed at the creature, feeling the blade slice cleanly into the creatures shoulder. Just as Castiel was about to pull it out and stab the demon in it's heart he was tackled out of the air by the other one, pressed down onto the cold stone. His wings beat the ground helplessly as he struggled to get free. Red eyes seemed to pierce through him and Castiel freed his hand, feeling the rocks from the ground grate against him as he pulled it free.

It was a quick and foolish decision, but one necessary for survival. Slamming his palm down onto the demon's forehead, Castiel sent what little grace he could spare through it, watching the bright light burn through the creature, destroying it's very essence. He shoved the dead body aside before it could fall on him and stood. The action had weakened him greatly, his power nearly diminished.

Turning, he caught sight of the other attacker, the blade still sticking out of it's shoulder as it cowered against the wall from what it had seen. Striding up to the creature Castiel pulled the knife out.

"Tell me." Castiel murmured. "Where is the righteous man?"

The answer from the demon was not forthcoming causing Castiel to snarl, shaking his head before he plunged the knife deep into the demon's heart, watching with minute satisfaction as the life left the demon's eyes.

Once the body had sagged down the wall Castiel turned and glanced around. He was surprised to be alive but now he had to continue on. There was no telling how far away the other two angels were.

Taking flight Castiel flew as fast as his body would let him, angling through the structures and passing other souls. But none of them were the righteous man. None of them were Dean Winchester, the man ordered to be saved.

The faster Castiel flew the closer he could feel his two brethren getting, the others long gone from his mind due to the distance. He could only hope that they were successful in their fighting, for he had felt many fallen from this excursion alone. The emptiness of them leaving the link they all shared had sent a jolt of pain through him, knowing that never again would he see their bright, celestial form nor hear their voices raised in song to praise the host.

"Castiel!"

The voice caught him off guard and he slowed, spinning around to locate the owner of the voice. Yemaya struggled against the ground, attempting to kick off the demons pinning her before Ecanus tackled them off her, rolling down the slope and coming dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Angling his wings downwards, Castiel moved to join them before he saw the look of despair on his sister's eyes as she shook her head.

"Go, Castiel. You can do it. You must."

With those parting words the angel took off, only glancing over his shoulder once to see Ecanus tumble over the edge of the cliff with five demons, plummeting to the dark recess below. The noise of battle left his ears, replaced by the screams of Hell and his loud breathing in his ears. The flaps of his wings seemed diminished in the area as if the labyrinth was denying his existence and presence. His heart ached for each of his fallen brethren, for it seemed like this was a lost cause. Now he, out of all his garrison, remained on track for their orders.

Yet, they had failed. The righteous man had raised a knife and cut his first slice of a soul. He had opened the first seal. In a fool's hope, Castiel strained his wings to fly faster, feeling them pulling on the muscles of his back, stretching them and causing them to ache. A shooting pain from the wounds seemed to gather as he flew faster, thinking he could correct the man's wrongdoings. It was too late. But in his wearied and weakened state, Castiel knew he only had one duty left now. Save the righteous man and resurrect him or die trying.

A green tinge seemed to reflect off the walls, _magenta_ stripes lacing the stone, but the area still reeked of death and blood. Decay filling the edges of the angel's vision. Chains swayed in a non-existent wind, and held to them were souls screaming for mercy and pleading for forgiveness. The begging went on deaf ears as Castiel weaved through them, searching for the pure grace of the man.

Accidentally, Castiel took a turn too sharp and his wing hit the edge of the metal. A searing pain spread through him, his wing going numb with a freezing feeling at the contact. He could feel a slight pressure from where his celestial form threatened to leak out. An agonizing yelp left the usually stoic angel's mouth as he instinctively folded the wing in. The chains were razor sharp, having cut cleanly through the skin as he swayed to avoid more damage to the wound. When he regained most of the feeling, he continued onward.

Caves began to litter the sides, twisting and turning into darkness that he couldn't make out. He only would spare a cursory glance, positive that the righteous man would not be in any of those. If rumors were true, that when the man picked up the blade he would have been apprenticed to Alastair. A small shudder ran through Castiel. He only had the _pleasure_ of meeting the demon once before. A battle during the beginning of the world, shortly after the fall of Lucifer. Those were memories that would scar the angel forever, but he was forced to carry them with him.

A slight tug at his grace alerted the angel to the presence of the righteous man and he dove straight down, angling his body so he cut through the air at a tremendous speed. The ground loomed up towards him and once he was close enough, Castiel snapped his wings back open, feeling the air catch beneath him and slow his landing. But his landing was full of pain as the sudden movement and strain on his wings brought about a shock of pain and Castiel stumbled, his feet barely keeping a hold of the ground. After a few deep breaths he felt ready enough to continue.

Here silence reigned. Nothing could make it past the thick air.

A piercing scream shattered the stillness.

Almost nothing.

At the noise Castiel spun, moving to the edge of the shadow. Nothing could be seen into it, only the dim light of the blood red walls reflected off it. Cautiously reaching out a hand, his slender fingers ran across the darkness, feeling the evil lurking just beneath the surface. To push through it would surely taint his form, his body, and his grace. It felt like disease and sickness. It felt like sin. But he knew that shouldn't stop him, that should keep him going.

He could feel it. The righteous man's presence just beyond the barrier. But the longer he waited the more creatures he could feel just on the edge of his consciousness. Demons and monsters coming to keep what the angels wanted to claim as their own. As a demon collided with the surface of the ground, Castiel moved with haste, pushing his hand into the barrier until it was submerged.

It felt cold and hot at the same time, as if he was freezing until he burned. Castiel pushed in, moving his whole body through the darkness, the slick shadow coating him like oil. Within a few seconds he pushed out of the darkness and felt his feet drag along a flat stone surface. It was a large room in the shape of a gear, the blackness filling in the holes and creating it into a room. Flashing orbs generating light that flew across the room in flashing colors of red, green, yellow, and blue. There were instruments littered around the floor, all coated with blood and black ooze. The back of a man was turned towards Castiel, but he could see the face of the person on the table, mouth agape in agony and horror, eyes rolled to the back of his head. The body writhed against the table, creating a loud clanging noise as it moved. The standing man reached for something on the lab tray next to him before he turned, just noticing the new presence in the room.

A man with bright green eyes and short, blond hair stared back at him. Chiseled features slightly on the feminine side with a average height and a muscled build. But that wasn't what attracted Castiel, it was the man's soul. Bright and pure, the most beautiful he had ever seen.

The soul took a few steps towards the angel, bloodied fingers reaching out, awe present on his face.

"Dean Winchester." Castiel breathed out, seeing a spark of recognition at its own name.

The angel took a step towards the soul, resting his hand on Dean's shoulder. Even after the soul had been in Hell years upon countless years it still felt clean and pure, as if opening the first seal hadn't tainted it at all.

Dean's soul placed it's own hand on Castiel's shoulder, as if testing to see if the angel was real. The bright light of pure energy the angel was radiating reflecting in the green eyes brought forth emotions of reassurance and hope. Leaning in, Dean pressed his lips up against Castiel's in a chaste, quick kiss. A rush of air passed from Castiel's lungs as the man's lips lightly pushed against his, leaving a small tingling feeling on his form, his grace seeming to buzz with renewed energy at the small action. A warmth radiated from his hand on to Dean's shoulder as he moved his lips against Dean's feeling the purity of the soul and the softness of his lips. It lasted no more than a second before they pulled away, the soul feeling saved and renewed, and Castiel feeling stronger and with the will to carry on.

"Dean?" A nasally voice suddenly called out, an accent tinting the voice causing memories that lurked in the deep chasm of Castiel's mind to spring forth. Vile and horrendous.

It was a voice that Castiel recognized and before the soul could respond to its master Castiel fervently beat his wings rising up in the air, still clinging to Dean's soul.

Ignoring his body's cries of pain, the angel broke through the ceiling and began to fly, weaving in through the chains and following the pathway out of Hell. He paid no attention to anything else, other than his orders to return Dean Winchester to his body. To save the righteous man. Dimly, he was aware of flying past his brethren and when they noticed the soul he had in his hand they joined him in flying their way back, fighting off any of the demons that aimed to take Dean Winchester back to the depths of Hell.

The journey was long and arduous, and he could just see the gate in his vision when something collided with his side, sending him spiraling away from his destination.

"Castiel." Alistair drawled as he recognized the angel within his grasps. "Oh, dear, looks like I've caught you at a bad time."

"Alastair." Castiel hissed, shielding Dean away from the demon.

Yellow teeth appeared behind a fake smile. "Oh good. I was hoping you'd remember me. We never got to finish our little session, did we? We can always start again." This time the smile was real, reaching the demon's dull blue eyes. Alastair moved towards Castiel who retreated back, out of energy and power and protecting Dean Winchester's soul, he was in no position to fight.

The form of an angel barreled into Alastair, momentarily taking his attention away from Castiel. "Go!" Uriel yelled as he pinned Alastair to the wall, fighting against the demon's strength.

The angel didn't need to be told twice before he headed towards the exit, with what little power he had left, Castiel blasted through Hell and pushed his way through to the surface of Earth. He knew what he had done would destroy the area surrounding Dean's grave. But at that moment, they could afford that. Taking Dean's soul, Castiel fixed it, sewing it back together and making it whole. The body of Dean Winchester was easier to fix, the tendons and cells slipping together to create a flawless skin. The only thing that would not be removed off the soul was the handprint that had been burned in when Castiel had sent the last of his power as a blast to Earth.

The mental problems. That was something Castiel knew he couldn't fix. Only with time.

Upon placing Dean's soul back into his body the man was resurrected.

Feeling the fresh air and the warm sun on his face he breathed in the deep scent of Earth. He wanted to rest but now was not the time.

"_Dean Winchester is saved._"

_Thy kingdom come, thy will be done._

Bright light surrounded Castiel, accompanied by warmth and a feeling of home. It was someplace he belonged, where he thought he would always belong. There was a small amount of chatter in his head from his brethren, but Castiel tuned them out, preferring to sit in silence and contemplate. He considered himself to be a rather simple angel. He obeyed his orders and did what he could for the further progression of the human race. The battle against Hell had long since ended, a shaky truce being called instead to the oblivion of both races. Heaven would rule and Hell would reign. It wasn't ideal, but it was the only thing they could do for now. That is, until the impending apocalypse catalyzed an action between all spheres.

For now, though, Castiel would do what was bidden of him. The angels had sung to the host earlier this morning in order to rejuvenate themselves and profess their love for their father. For now, the angel was just listening to the prayers of mankind, enjoying what little knowledge of human life he gleamed this way.

Castiel stretched his wings out and shook them slightly, ruffling the feathers and feeling the sun shine down on them and warm his tendons. In Heaven, the sun always shone, the place was bright and welcoming, as if forgiving one of their sins and welcoming them into the arms of the Lord. Most often, Castiel would be moving among human's personal Heavens, interested as to what they wanted to live with forever. Some people were rather complex, while others were simple. There was a woman who was content to sit and watch her mother sew for eternity, while another traveled through a maze of trees and each ending brought him to a different time in his life.

Folding his wings back up, he uncrossed his legs, watching the crystal blue, translucent pool resting beneath him. His feet dangled off the edge, hovering just above the blue liquid. It was said that certain angels had the power to see prophecies in the clear liquid. And even then, God might grant an angel a glimpse of their future. Castiel had yet to see one, but he did not think he deserved such a vision. He was just a lowly angel of a garrison.

The noise of wings cutting through the air announced the arrival of another angel, but Castiel paid no heed to the new comer, instead, staring at his reflection in the water.

"Castiel!" The voice called out, mock surprise and annoying happiness causing the angel to guess who the voice belonged to instantly.

"Gabriel." He murmured with respect. Bowing his head slightly in the higher angel's presence. "Have you come to taunt me again?"

Gabriel moved next to Castiel and sat on the ledge as well, his shorter legs swinging over the edge as he placed his palms on the ground behind his hips and leaned backwards. "What? Can I not talk to my younger brother?"

Castiel turned to look at the archangel, squinting his eyes as if to figure out Gabriel's motive. "Just last week you brought back this human contraption called tar and thought it would be funny to try to dump it on my wings. Then before that you placed me in a different reality where I couldn't land for fear of sinking into a dark pit. Ever since I was created you have been out to torment and tease me. Your idea of humor is to remove parts of human's anatomy."

"I'm just looking out for you, bro." Gabriel replied and silence passed between them before the archangel chuckled. "But come on, _buttless_ humans? _Butts_ were made to be removed."

Gabriel stopped laughing but a smile remained on his lips turning up the corner of his mouth. The younger angel watched his brother's reflection. They both knew why Gabriel was doing what he did, especially since he was the one who had fought so hard to get Castiel back from Alistair. Clearing his throat, Castiel glanced back out across the water. "So how was your trip to Earth? As en-joyful as always?"

"She beat me over the head with a broom!" Gabriel practically screeched the words, his face showing that his pride was hurt. "That's even worse than when I told Daniel why he was having his prophecies and he described me as 'the _man_ named Gabriel.' Man! As if. I should have smote him."

Castiel shook his head. "I thought humans enjoyed creating new life."

"Not when they're virgins apparently. I even told her that her cousin, Elizabeth, was pregnant as well." The archangel shook his head with a sigh. "Behold, you will conceivein your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus.."

Not knowing what to say to his superior kept the younger angel quiet. He glanced over at Gabriel, noticing that he seemed to be thinking. With that knowledge, Castiel wondered whether he should leave him and continue with his duties for the day.

Before he could leave, Gabriel spoke again. "I've seen a lot in this pool, and Castiel, not all of them have been good. Earth is turning into an evil place and I fear there will be nothing we can do to save it. Michael and Lucifer, they..." Gabriel paused, as if phrasing his words carefully. "Do you ever wonder about the future?"

Shaking his head Castiel replied vehemently and with conviction. "No, our father will always be there, he will make sure everything is as it should be."

"But what if it should be evil and full of death and despair?"

Turning, Castiel feared his brother's words, feared the meaning behind them. He did not understand why Gabriel was asking him such things, things that bordered on blasphemous. Casting a glance about, he was relieved that they were the only beings in the area. "Our father would not let such a thing happen."

Gabriel stood, unfurling a wing and gently dipped an edge of the primary feathers into the pool, creating small ripples that moved away and towards the outer sides of the pool. "It's just the things I've seen. What if he's not always here? The scar of Lucifer leaving is still too great for me to bear."

"What are you saying Gabriel?"

"I'm saying... Take care, brother. If you ever need me, I'm sure you'll figure out how to find me." Strong wind ruffled Castiel's hair as Gabriel took off, his wings pushing hard to get him off the ground. He watched the archangel's reflection in the rippling water, tracking his progress.

Just as Gabriel's reflection left the pool, the glinting of something bright in the water caught his attention. It was the reflection of a silver knife with a long handle and a sharp blade. It sliced through the air, landing into the back of another being, stabbing through to the heart. Bright light exploded from the body, pouring out through the eyes and the mouth as the body died and the grace of the angel was expelled. A wave of fire rolled over the surface's reflection, replacing the scene with darkness once the fire died out. Bright green eyes floated to the surface, wearied and tired before the eyelids slid closed, extinguishing the light in the orbs. Just as they opened again the whole pool filled with a bright white light that almost hurt Castiel to look at.

As Castiel squinted at the pool a rough, deep voice yelled, causing him to bring up his hands to cover his ears from the shattering noise. "_Dean!_"

A voice called back in return, echoing through Castiel's mind long after the vision had died down and the pool had returned to it's calm and mellow state. "_Castiel!"_

_If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord, my soul to take._

Bright light filtered through the leaves splaying dancing shadows onto the ground. Children's laughter and the squeaking of the chains of swings seemed to drift around the park, the thumping of a _basketball _hitting the ground. It was peaceful, quiet. As if they didn't know their existence was dangling by a thread. A thread the Winchesters could so easily cut. It seemed fitting that everything could be covered by a warm breeze and smiles. That everyone could take their pain and push it away for what little time they needed to and enjoy their time for the sake of others. Ever present problems were forgotten with the thought that if the troubles are ignored they will slowly fade away. Except, this was one problem that wouldn't leave. The destruction of Earth would be permanent, a massacre of everything anyone holds dear.

It could be stopped though.

Dean Winchester.

Castiel had faith in that man, more than he knew he should. He knew hundreds of languages, dead and alive, he had thousands of ways of saying one given thing. But that one word. That one name. Nothing could ever mean as much to him as the word 'Dean'. For the whole time the angel had known the stubborn man he had been impressed, surprised almost, that a single human could impact the future of the world so much. The burden on the man's shoulders seemed to be weighing him down though, the time had come for actions and decisions. The time had come for Dean Winchester to become the person he was destined to be.

Laughter caught his attention, pulling him from his musings as he turned his head, surveying a small child watching the flames burn down candles. Wax dripping down onto the frosting of what seemed to be a _chocolate cheesecake _as people gathered around him to sing a song while eating _cupcakes._

These people. These beings were his father's creations. It would be a shame to see them perish. Though, Castiel couldn't help but feel doubts seeping into him. He was a loyal and obedient angel. Strong and powerful. Each order he received he followed it. He had the best intent for everything. But, he had seen a lot. Something was not right and it angered the angel that he could not find out what it was. Ever since raising Dean from perdition something had changed.

Doubts were sinking in and Castiel was more confused than ever.

_Thy kingdom come, thy will be done._

Castiel spun around, losing the feel of the park bench underneath him, staring around furiously for any sign of where to go. The blue orb was nowhere in sight and anger welled in him that he wasn't allowed to stay long enough to see Dean.

Dean. The word echoed around in his mind. Each memory had been linked to the man in some way and he couldn't help but feel like this was a puzzle he needed to figure out.

"Cas... come on, Cas. Wake up, please." The voice seemed to fill the area, reverberating against the darkness. It sounded morose with bitterness biting on each word. The angel turned, trying to locate the voice but to no avail. "Goddammit." It spoke again.

Trench coat flowing out behind him, Castiel began to run, pushing against the darkness, feeling it press against his being again. "Dean!" He yelled, his voice sounding small even to his own ears. "Dean!" Frantically, Castiel called for his friend hoping he would be answered.

He did not know how long he was running for, nothing but the darkness around him, and nothing for him to tell the passing of time. Just as he was about to give up, a light could be seen in the distance, a beacon guiding him. The only thing Castiel did not know was where to. As he moved closer to the light he recognized it as the orb that had spoken to him when he had first arrived in this reality. It floated there once again, as if waiting for the angel to arrive.

As Castiel reached the orb it began to float upwards, moving higher and out of reach for him. Bright blue eyes followed its progress, watching it hover and become smaller. A feeling passed over him, and he knew that his memories had taken a turn for the worse.

Warmth began to surround him, the smell of sulfur and death accompanying the crackling of a fire. Chains appeared, wrapping around his arms and his torso, pinning him to a cold, hard table. Chains wrapped around his legs, securely tying him to the metal object, containing the same metal as the angel knife, dimming his power and closing off his access to his grace.

"Seems like a little birdie lost his way home." A nasally voice drawled close to his ear.

With a hitch in his breath, Castiel turned his head quickly to the side to see the face mere inches from his. "Alastair." Castiel breathed out the word, the name feeling like poison upon his lips.

"Now let's see if we can make the birdie scream."

_If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord, my soul to take._

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you **WHY**, , **I Can Dig Elvis**, **StoryWriterOfAll-101**, **Larkafree**, **harukakatanakakashikun** (could your username be anymore difficult? haha), **NightAngel97**, **Lopithecus**, c**onsultingsuperwholock**, **FireChildSlytherin5**, **NolesGirlElle**, **spnfan263**, **PrincessOfDarkness3007**, **Perry123**, **CatchMyCarcal**, **Nerdette92**, **AllTheLosers**, **aishaduh**, **silken touch**, **lionesspuma**, and especially **DaniBD **for proofreading this.

For that you each get... a one free hugging hour with your favorite Supernatural character. Choose wisely, and we will pry you off them if you do refuse to let go after an hour.


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After  
**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman  
**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel  
**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, PG.  
**Warning: **None

**A/N: **I'm amazed I got this chapter out on time. I had a resident pass away this week and usually I stop writing for a few weeks when that happens (ex: last chapter) and my significant other is leaving for Africa for quite awhile this week and I've been spending a lot of time with him. But here it is! Special thanks to **DaniBD** for proofreading!

The next chapter will be up next weekend. And I'm going to post another chapter to one of my other stories that I've been neglecting.

I'm still not sure about how this chapter turned out but enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Fifteen

"...and then he just fell to the ground and started to convulse!" Dean said, shrugging his shoulders and turning away from the window to face Sam and the comatose angel laying on the bed.

"Wait..." Sam replied, holding up a hand as if he was trying to process what Dean had just said. "He ground against you."

"Yes!" Dean sighed with annoyance, exasperation passing over his face. "Is that all you got from what I told you?"

"Did he kiss you?"

"Sam!" Dean snapped, focusing his brothers attention on him. "Can we focus on the main problem here?" Trying to hide his smile, the younger brother shook his head and turned his gaze upon the angel on the bed. Dean took a step closer to Castiel, placing the palm of his hand on the angel's forehead only to pull it back quickly from the intense heat radiating from his skin. "His fever's getting worse." Sam nodded and sat on the edge of the bed watching the angel.

The room was silent except for the ragged breathing from the being on the bed, lips parted and chapped. His already ill-fitting clothes pooled around his body, weak and frail and seeming smaller than normal due to this sickness. His pale face seemed to have a yellow tint to it, dark circles resting under his eyes and the skin over his cheeks seemed to be sunken. Sweat beaded on the angel's brow, slicking his hair down over his forehead above eyes that roved under closed lids.

"We don't even know what's wrong with him." Sam muttered, standing up and moving over to his duffel bag. Kneeling in front of it, he unzipped the bag and began to rifle through his clothes, pulling out their father's journal before he stood and kicked the bag under the bed.

Dean followed his brother to the small table, pulling out one of the chairs and spinning it around before he straddled the seat and rested his arms on the back. "I told you what's wrong. He started to seize and then he just stopped."

"After he tried to give you a blow job." Sam added in, glancing up across the table at his brother a small smile turning up the corner of his lips before he returned his attention to the journal, flipping over the cover and glancing through the first few pages.

"Man, you just can't leave it alone. He wasn't in his right mind." Dean replied, grabbing a beer from the six pack off the table and popping off the lid. If Sam wasn't going to let it go he'd definitely need the whole pack by the end of the night.

"Obviously." The youngest Winchester replied, pushing a few pages back with his fingertips.

Dean took a swig of the beer before he placed it back down onto the tabletop, raising his eyebrows slightly at his brother's words. "Obviously? What does that mean?"

Sam didn't move his head, instead he flicked his eyes up, looking through the hair that had fallen from behind his ears due to his hunched position, at his brother. "Cas wouldn't _ever_ act like that."

"You never know, men could be attracted to me." Dean replied haughtily, shrugging his shoulders to make it seem as if he the subject didn't matter to him.

Sam pushed the journal across the table to his brother before he reached for a beer out of the pack. "I'm not saying that men aren't attracted to you. I'm just saying that Cas probably isn't."

"How come?" He retorted, placing his beer onto the table and sliding the book close to him, resuming where Sam left off.

Pulling his bag towards him, Sam open the top flap and pulled out his laptop before he kicked the bag away from him and up against the wall. Opening it, Sam replied while he waited for the screen to turn on. "Because he's an angel, Dean."

The noise of tapping key's reached Dean's ears and he knew Sam was typing in his password, one that he had activated after Dean accidentally downloaded a virus from watching porn. "That doesn't mean he couldn't like me." The hunter muttered, flipping through a few pages of the journal, reading his father's elegant scrawl.

"This isn't a contest, we have bigger things to worry about right now." Irritation tinted Sam's voice and Dean knew that he should leave this conversation alone.

Conversation ceased between them, the ticking of their watches counting down the hours until dawn, the passing time making both of them worried as Castiel's health deteriorated. The tapping of keys and the flipping of pages, the rapid movement of eyes skimming over words in a precise and practiced way. The solution seemed to be hidden, as no answer presented itself obviously in either method of research and Sam had forlornly announced that the Savannah library would not open until nine in the morning. So, they would have to find the answer or be forced to wait.

They worked through the night before Dean slammed his father's journal shut, glancing out through the dark window to the silent streets. Dean had never believed the saying that it was always darkest before the dawn, but now, with little hope for Castiel's survival did he really understand what that saying meant.

"Maybe we're digging too deep here." Sam sighed, leaning away from his laptop and stretching his arms over his head, resting his back on the top rail of the chair. After a guttural groan of pleasure, he dropped his arms and rubbed his eyes with his palms. "What about a Siren?"

Turning his attention back to his brother Dean shook his head. "It doesn't fit. I spent ages on that part of Dad's journal and no matter how I tried to twist it, it didn't fit."

Resting his elbows back on the table Sam raised an eyebrow slightly, broaching on a topic that neither of them wanted to bring up. "What if it's one of Eve's creations?"

"If it is, we're all screwed." The hunter replied.

That was when they began to throw ideas back and forth, each of them able to disprove the other's theory. Dean even muttered about Rogue from the X-Men taking away Castiel's power. With each suggestion, Dean became more and more irritated, his eyes drifting to the prone form of his friend more often even after he had taken some Mythology books out of Sam's bag and was flipping through them in hope of gaining more information. About what? He didn't know, but he did not want to give up so easily.

After Dean snapped at Sam again the younger brother pushed his chair away from the table and stood, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it over his shoulders.

"Where are you going?" Dean growled, his eyes traveling from Castiel to his brother.

"I'm going out." Sam replied, grabbing his wallet of the table and shoving it into his jean's pocket.

"Why?" Dean asked, his body going stiff at the knowledge of losing the time that Sam could be researching.

Running a hand through his hair, Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm going to get us some coffee and get some fresh air, and maybe in that time you can calm down and stop acting like a little bitch."

Dean stood up, his hand gripping the top of his chair so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "What do you mean, Sam?" His voice was dangerously low, angrily reverberating around the room. Anger that Sam was leaving them in Castiel's time of need for some air.

"What I mean is you're snapping at everything, you're short tempered. I don't know what's going on with you, but I don't want to be here when you blow. So please, Dean, cool off." Sam replied, raising his hands in a small gesture of peace as he backed towards the door.

"Sam, hold on-" Dean started before Sam interrupted him.

"No, Dean, in order to fix this then we'd actually have to talk about it." Sam watched as his brother stayed silent, his mouth closed, but seething anger playing behind his jade eyes. "I'm your brother." Sam scoffed, "yet recently, I've felt so distant from you. I understand there's things you don't want to tell me, but when it affects us, when it affects our work...That shouldn't be happening." He turned towards the door and opened it, letting in a few rays of the rising sun. "I'll be back soon."

Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a loud click as the lock slid into place.

Dean stared at the closed door, the words that Sam had said to him were swirling around his mind. The incoordination of their usually perfect team had seemed out of sync recently, but Dean assumed it wasn't because of him. It was because of the stress they were under. Sam was just overreacting, needing someone to blame for everything that had happened recently.

With a growl, Dean spun his chair around and shoved it back under the table before he moved over to stand beside the bed Castiel was laying on. He had deteriorated since they had first arrived, his breathing shallow and his skin pinching over his bones. Occasionally, a twitch would pass through the body, looking more like a shudder. The skin radiated heat, more than normal and more than before. Dean pushed some of the sweat soaked hair off the angel's forehead, feeling the burning heat that resided just beneath the surface. Worry and fear crossed Dean's face, replacing the anger he had worked to hide from his brother. But now that he was alone he felt as if he could show his emotions. Show how broken he was, how he was hurting over his friend's slow march towards death.

"Cas... come on, Cas. Wake up, please." Dean murmured, sliding his hand down from Castiel's forehead to cup the side of the angel's face, the hunter's thumb running gently along his cheekbone. His spirits seemed to lift when it looked as if the angel was about to wake, something changed in the being's face, as if he was fighting to rise from under the surface. But then the small spark disappeared and Castiel sank farther into the recess of his mind and sickness.

With an exasperated sigh at the lack of progress in Castiel's health, Dean stood and entered the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth off the rack before he turned on the water as cold as it would go. While he waited for it to cool down, the hunter placed his hands on either side of the sink and braced himself against it, watching the water spin around the sink before it went down the drain.

He couldn't lose Castiel. Not now. Not after everything. And the thought that he might lose his friend scared him. Yet, he feared this, this small fact that he was afraid to lose the angel. What had Castiel become to him in such a small time?

The cloth in the sink became heavy with the cold water and Dean picked it up, wringing the excess water out of it before he returned to Castiel's side and folded it up, covering Castiel's forehead in hopes of stemming the fever. The bed sank with his weight when he sat down on the edge and took Castiel's hand in his, squeezing it tightly for a second so the angel knew that Dean was there and he wasn't alone in his battle for life.

An hour passed and Castiel's health did not improve, but Dean had lost track of time, his thumb stroking a mesmerizing trail against Castiel's index finger. Only when the sound of a key fitting into a lock reached his ears did he drop Castiel's hand and take the lukewarm cloth off his forehead.

Sam walked into the motel room with a paper bag and kicked the door shut behind him. "Feeling better?" He asked as he pulled the food out of the bag and pulled one of the coffees closer to him. Nodding, Dean tossed the washcloth onto the bedside table and sat opposite of his brother, taking the other coffee and grabbing the bag off the table. They ate in silence, watching the staggered rise and fall of Castiel's chest. "Anything?"

"Nope." Dean sighed in reply, turning to glance across an abandoned textbook. The library wouldn't be open for a few hours yet, but even then, they still hadn't a clue. Dean felt like he was in the dark, struggling to find anything. The woman was gone, they barely could remember her features. All they had was a comatose angel on the bed.

"Didn't Annabel mention something about a case last night? I don't really remember, but she asked us if we were investigating something." Sam interrupted Dean's thoughts about the dark haired beauty they had seen earlier. But now, hours later, she seemed as if she was a blur in the passing, like she had moved too fast for his eyes to have focused on.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean nodded, taking a bite out of his breakfast before he froze, replaying the girl's words in his head. Carefully swallowing, the hunter spoke again. "She mentioned men getting a high fever and going unconscious from it."

Sam's eyes widened slightly and he scoffed in amazement, turning to look at the angel. "So there have been others. Do you have her number?"

"No, but I have Dustin's." The answer came from Dean quickly as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, landing upon the correct name. Dialing the number, he held the phone up to his ear, waiting for the other man to pick up.

After a few rings a man answered the phone in a hushed whisper. "Hello?" Dean realized he hadn't even taken the time into consideration since he had yet to sleep. It was still early in the morning and he hoped that Dustin was fine with being woken up.

"Dustin?" The man on the other line grunted in acknowledgement causing him to breath a sigh of relief. He faintly remembered that Dustin had gotten very little sleep on the hunt they were on together. Preferring to prepare himself instead. It was a necessity if you were a hunter to learn how to function on the minimum amount of sleep a human body could have. "It's Dean, Dean Winchester. Listen, I'm in Savannah, Georgia and I'm on a hunt, but I need to speak to Annabel."

There was a rustling on the other end and the creak of a door before Dustin's voice returned, louder than before. "Annabel?" He questioned, confused. "What's she got to do with this?"

Dean chuckled softly, feeling his spirits lift slightly from the small lead they may have gained. "Well, we actually met her out here with her roommate. Anyway, she mentioned something about some people and it may have happened to one of us."

"Sam?" Worry was hidden in Dustins voice and Dean hurried to quench it.

"No, no, not Sam. Castiel. He's not doing too well." He could feel Sam's eyes on him, watching his every move.

The line was quiet for a few seconds before Dustin spoke once again. "Oh, right, we as in Sam and you. Right, your codependency is endearing, yet slightly frightening." Leave it to the other hunter to say exactly what he thought about a situation. That was one reason why Dean liked the guy. He wasn't hiding anything, he spoke his mind and did his work diligently and willingly.

"Thanks." Dean replied, an uncertain look on his face.

"So, you need to contact Anna-banana?" The nickname was used as a term of fondness, and Dean couldn't help but compare it to the way Cas seemed to roll off his lips. Dustin told Dean Annabel's cellphone number and the Winchester repeated it, getting an affirmative from the other man. After that was set they muttered a quick goodbye, going their separate ways.

The older Winchester glanced across the table at his brother before he dialed in Annabel's number. Sam was sitting there, his lips pursed and his forearms resting on the table. His coffee was long gone and Dean assumed that he had drank most of it on the walk back to the motel. Taking another sip of his coffee, he waited for the young girl to answer.

"What the fuck do you want?" A sleepy voice moaned over the phone, obviously upset to be woken at such an early hour. The swear word seemed to drag from her mouth as if she was hesitating to use such vulgar language. She was trying to be threatening, but instead it came out slightly adorable. It seemed that out of the siblings, Dean needed help from the one that enjoyed getting more than enough sleep each night.

"Hey, Annabel..." He suddenly realized that he was treading in unfamiliar territory.

His voice seemed to have woken her up because her next sentence seemed to come out clearer with less traces of sleep in her voice. "Who is this?"

Clearing his throat, the hunter spoke again, feeling uncomfortable in the situation. "It's Dean. You know, from last night."

"Oh, yeah, hi." Annabel chuckled and he heard her body fall back into bed. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry for waking you." Dean replied sincerely and he saw Sam's lips twitch and realized that his brother was becoming annoyed by the idle chatter. Green eyes darted over to the prone form on the bed. He had never been this worried about the angel before in his life. Not even when he had fallen from Heaven and was slowly taking on human characteristics. Now it seemed as if there was the chance that the angel could die, pass away slowly and, what seemed like, painfully.

"It's fine." The reply was curt, but Dean at least appreciated the effort that she was trying to make to stay pleasant.

"Last night you mentioned something about men going into comas and such, claiming it might be a case?" Dean said, finally moving into the reason he was calling.

"Mm?" Annabel replied, and Dean could tell that he had confused her slightly by the change in topic but she took no time to catch up with the hunter's thought process. "Yeah, normal, healthy men falling into comas. A few of them have died, though, and nothing's been done about it." Annabel cleared her throat and hesitated when Dean didn't answer. "I'm not sure it's a hunt though. I'm probably just paranoid."

Dean sighed, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead as he thought his next words through. Annabel could be a great resource to them, and they needed her at the moment. She had more extensive knowledge about this case. It was for Castiel as well. "We... Castiel... that's happened to him."

"Oh." Annabel breathed out and the silence stretched thick through the phone. Dean couldn't bring himself to draw Annabel into this. Into a hunt. Into the world of the supernatural especially since her father had worked so hard on keeping her out of it. He wouldn't wish this life on anyone. But she decided for him. "Where are you now?"

The words left Dean's mouth before he could stop them. "The motel on the edge of town. Riverside. Room seven."

She didn't even say goodbye when she hung up, all Dean heard was the click of the phone and then an eery silence.

Placing his phone down on the table, Dean's gaze turned back to Castiel while Sam opened his laptop, the glow of the screen competing with the light from the rising sun. Even though the computer was on, Dean could tell Sam wasn't paying attention to what he was reading. The way his eyes glazed over the text, so unlike the way they would squint while he was trying to intake as much information in a short amount of time. Dean had given up on researching. The small collection of books they had with them would not provide the answer they needed to cure Castiel. Right now, their hopes resided with a young girl who stood on the fringe of the hunting world.

He was tired of sitting and doing nothing, time was passing at what seemed to be an accelerated rate. Picking up the washcloth from the bedside table Dean returned to the bathroom to re-wet it with cold water, making sure he stayed busy so his mind wouldn't drift to Castiel. But once he had replaced the cloth on his friend's forehead he found himself standing next to Castiel's bed, watching the angel as he slept. It reminded him of when he had awoken to the presence of the angel next to him. Now he realized that it was comforting to see the rise and fall of his friend's chest, knowing that he was still alive, if just for that breath.

A soft knock on the door tore Dean out of his pensive thoughts, his eyes darting towards the entrance. Sam stood, pushing the top of his laptop closed before he moved to the door, glancing out of the peephole to see who was there. When Sam visibly relaxed, Dean did as well.

Sam opened the door to reveal a slightly disheveled Annabel. Dean couldn't help but notice that she looked like she had just rolled out of bed and came to their aid. She was wearing black sweatpants with the name of her college printed down the left leg and a black tanktop with a lime green sports bra underneath. Her long hair was braided back, but loose strands framed her face from where it had fallen out in her sleep. As she entered the motel room she threw a green backpack into one of the unoccupied chairs and kicked off her sneakers.

"Thanks for coming." Sam said as he closed the door behind her.

"No problem. Getting past Tori was slightly difficult, she's still afraid of the ghost tour from last night." Annabel chuckled softly before she moved over to the bed, standing on the side opposite of Dean, watching the angel for a few seconds before she bent down and placed her knuckles against his cheek.

Sam cleared his throat, maneuvering around the table to stand next to his brother. "Did you just wake up and come here?"

Dean's brow furrowed as he glanced up at his brother and noticed how Sam's eyes flickered to the pale skin of Annabel's shoulders. But the girl just glanced up at Sam with a small smile gracing her pink lips. "I brought a change of clothes. I just figured I should get here as soon as possible. I hope you guys don't mind."

"No, not at all." Sam replied quickly, his eyes snapping back up from her waist, his hazel eyes meeting her gray ones. Dean rolled his eyes and elbowed his brother in the ribs. Annabel bit her lip and shook her head slightly, humour tinting her features, before her attention returned to Castiel.

Now was not the time for Sam to be showing his interest in the woman across from them and some annoyance had worked its way into Dean's demeanor. He couldn't care less if Sam felt like sleeping with the girl. But afterwards. After this was all cleared up and Castiel was healed. He was just thankful that Annabel seemed to have the same mindset.

Nimble fingers undid the top two buttons of Castiel's shirt, feeling the excess heat radiating off the body from the clothing. "Right now, his body temperature is too high, we need to get these clothes off him in an attempt to lower it. I don't know how angels work, but when humans get excessively high temperatures brain damage can occur, hallucinations, nerve impairment." She sounded as if she was reciting a book she had studied. Reaching down, she gently lifted one of Castiel's eyelids, peeking at the glazed eye beneath it.

She paused and looked up at the two men expectantly before she hesitated, her fair skin flushing slightly as she recalled her words. "Or not. I mean, I don't really know much about this." She was embarrassed, knowing that she was obviously the undereducated one when it came to the world of the supernatural. Annabel pulled her hand back and stood up, her fingers moving up to play with the necklace around her neck.

Dean glanced at Sam and shrugged, feeling slightly foolish that he hadn't thought of it before. The younger Winchester bent down, his large frame looming over the bed as he pulled Castiel's dress shoes off, tossing them down on the ground. Dean worked on the tie while Annabel unbuttoned the rest of the angel's shirt. He pulled the shirt off, his fingers grazing over the heated flesh of the body.

It looked the same as when Castiel had bared his chest for Dean to cut the sigil into. The sickening way the razor had sliced through the flesh brought back a wave of memories from Hell. The way Castiel had closed his eyes and breathed deeply as the hunter made each mark, the dripping of blood down the blade marring his hands red. But now, it was pale and wet with sweat instead of blood, except that Dean could imagine the sigil there, red flesh parted with the new incisions, heat radiating from the wounds.

The angel's stomach caved in, showing the edges of his ribcage from the sickness. But defined muscles could still be seen through the skin. Reaching out, Dean rested his fingers on Castiel's chest, feeling the being's heartbeat just beneath them. There was a slight pause as the other two watched his actions before Annabel moved, reaching to undo Castiel's belt and pants. The older Winchester turned, glancing at her face to see she had no qualms with undressing Castiel. Instead, she pulled the pants down and Sam moved the angel's legs, working with her to get the article of clothing off.

Annabel sighed, making no move to remove the pair of black boxers that were left on Castiel's body. Leaving him with a little decency, but Dean couldn't help but have his eyes travel the length of the angel's body, taking in what was always covered by clothing before. A toned and strong body decaying with a sickness so great that it could kill the angel. With that thought, Dean's fingers slipped of Castiel's chest and fell back to the hunter's side.

"So what happened?" The woman asked, glancing up from the prone body to the hunters. "I can try to be of some help, but I highly doubt it."

"We're just happy you're here." Sam muttered, glancing at Dean to signal that he should tell her the story.

Clearing his throat Dean glanced at Sam before turning his gaze upon Annabel, deciding an abridged version would be of great use here. "We left the ghost tour last night and were making our way back to the motel. Originally, we had come to Savannah to help Cas, but that didn't work out. But, as we were walking he was approached by a woman and I think she was singing or something-"

"Humming." Sam broke in and Annabel's eyes flickered over to the younger brother.

"Yeah, anyway," Dean continued, returning her attention to him, "she touched Castiel and he started acting weird. Like, trying to seduce me, weird." The small smile on Annabel's lips, despite the severity of the situation, did not go unnoticed by the brothers. Dean was just happy that she didn't push the matter. "I could tell he had a fever, but something happened and he started to convulse and it's been like this since."

"She touched him?" Annabel enquired, her brows furrowed as she processed what Dean had said.

"On his face and one of his hands." Sam spoke up, pointing to each place that the woman had touched.

Annabel picked up the hand closest to her while Dean did the same to the other one. Flipping it over so the palm faced upwards and then glancing at the unmarred skin on the back. When nothing could be seen Dean's fingers gently prodded Castiel's face, fingers running against the smooth plane of his skin.

A surprised gasp left Annabel's mouth and the brothers glanced over at her. A red drop of blood rolled down her palm, the maroon trail contrasting with her fair skin. She stared at the small cut for a second before she turned her attention back to Castiel's wrist. Using her thumb and index finger, Annabel pulled a long, thin piece of wood out from underneath Castiel's skin.

"Please tell me this isn't normal for an angel."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks to **MadAnnFlint**, **spnfan263**, **Theforgottenshadow** (I'm questioning your sanity... jk /glomp/), **Zalacca**, **Celphius**, **Perry123**, **NightAngel97**, **FireChildSlytherin5**, **DreamBiggerDarlingAE**, **harukakaranakakashikun**, **Larkafree**, **S. **, **lionesspuma**, **Legit The Ninja**, and **Mylia11** for commenting.

For that you get to choose one article of clothing off/from your favorite Supernatural character. PANTY RAID! Or, you know, be normal and take a plaid shirt or a sock.

Next chapter is from Castiel dream world of freaking ponies and rainbows. Not really. Actually... the exact opposite... but whatever.

But it is bed time now.


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** Attempting Happily Ever After

**Author:** castiel-thepizzaman

**Pairing:** eventual Dean/Castiel

**Rating:** M overall, this chapter, **M**.

**Warning: **Violent content in the forms of torture

**A/N: **Rated M for violence, don't worry, I tried to tone it down from last time.

Randomly italicized words are words given to me to fit into the chapter! Special thanks to **DaniBD** for being an awesome beta!

Please enjoy reading! Feel free to comment on anything that's good, bad, or whatever in-between.

Chapter Sixteen

_And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil._

"Oh little birdie..." A voice drawled next to Castiel's ear and he instinctively jerked away from it, feeling the bindings restricting his movement. "Wake up little birdie, I want to play. Come, come, I couldn't have tired you out that fast."

Opening his startling blue eyes, Castiel focused on the pale gray eyes hovering just inches above his face. His body ached for release of his pain, the damage driving him practically to the brink of insanity. But of course, that was what Alistair wanted. He wanted Castiel to break. Break into a thousand little pieces, never to be repaired.

He fervently glanced around the area. The black walls staring back at him yielded no escape nor were the bindings loose enough for him to break free. The _incessant_ dripping of some liquid put him on edge and somehow he knew it was his own blood dripping onto the floor, his naked body frozen to the table.

"Who are you?" Castiel rasped out, hating the small smile he watched grow on the demon's face. The look of triumph.

Leaning back, he rocked onto the balls of his feet, bracing his hands against the freezing metal table. "So it speaks!" Mock surprise tinted the accent as the demon pulled his lips back in a feral grin. "I do believe introductions were forgotten. What is your name, pretty, little bird?" Even though he was gasping for air with an open mouth, the angel forcefully pressed his lips together, a dignified glare forming on his features as he turned his gaze upon the black wall behind the demon. The demon tsked at the action, his long fingers tracing the edge of a blade on the metal tray next to him. "Now that won't do at all." It drawled, fingers clutching the handle as he lifted it up to examine the sharpness in the dim red light.

He brought the blade down and pressed it against the angel's skin, placing more pressure on the object the longer Castiel stayed quiet. As soon as enough pressure was pushed onto the skin it broke open, the blade slicing deeply into Castiel's hip, grating against the bone. Weak light filtered from the slice, trapped grace yearning to break free of its binds.

A muffled scream tore from Castiel's lips as pain invaded his limbs, his body twitching to rid himself of the knife. "That's better. What is your name?" After the initial shock, Castiel was panting, his eyes closed and his mouth taut. With a fake sigh, the demon pulled the knife out and placed the tip on the angel's lip. "Today's not about making you feel pain. It's about getting answers but, if those pretty little lips won't speak, then they're of no use to me."

His cold hand encircled Castiel's wrist, forcing it so that the angel's palm was facing upwards. Alastair pulled the knife away from Castiel's face and let it drop to the ground. Instead he changed devices, taking a two bladed sickle and placing it against the palm. A small smile spread across the demon's face as he pressed the knives to his palm and dragged the device across the skin, peeling off the top layer of skin. The small whimper Castiel let out drew the demons attention and he repeated the motion, slowly skinning away the layers of skin on the hand.

By the time he was done, the angel was attempting to pull his palm away, hand open and raw. Taking a small strap of leather off the tray, Alistar brought the strap whistling through the air and landing on the open palm.

At the seventh blow Castiel let out a broken shout, feeling his voice crack halfway with pain. "Cas-Castiel!"

Midway through the next blow the demon stopped his hand, hovering as a gleeful smile broke across his face. But there was slight disappointment as he couldn't continue ravaging the angel's hand. "Castiel." He rolled the name around his mouth. "Alistair." He nodded his head in mock respect before he placed the small whip back on the tray. "See, I like to think of this as a working relationship. You tell me what I want to know and in return I won't hurt you."

Blue eyes snapped up to watch the demon, bloody lips baring back in a snarl. "You're going to kill me anyway!" Castiel spat at the demon, his hand burning and aching from the pain. He just wished there was a weakness in the bonds, someplace where he could focus his grace and break free. But it was futile. He was a little more than flesh and blood; completely at the mercy of Alastair. It was foolish to claim war against Hell at such an early time; many angels still felt the gaping loss of the brothers who had fallen. Gabriel, yet torn, had lead them into battle; many angels trailing behind, uncertain of their order to kill their brethren even if they had fallen. Many had died on both sides and Castiel could only assume that Heaven had lost for he was here, in the torture chamber of one of the most renown masters.

"True, but I can make it painless for you." Alastair bartered, crossing his arms across his chest, eyes glinting as if hoping the angel would refuse. "So... what is your rank?"

"Kill me now, for you will find out nothing more." Castiel growled, his body taut, pain forgotten, only the strength of his belief in his father keeping him going now. He knew the demon would not kill him, not while he still maintained valuable information, but the pain he would go through now would be excruciating.

Alastair grinned, feral and evil as he uncrossed his arms and flexed the fingers on his right hand. "As you wish." Five sharp fingers plunged into Castiel's chest, sinking into the flesh as the demon sought out the center of the angel's grace.

An earth-shattering scream left Castiel as his back arched in pain.

_Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord, my soul to keep_

Everything dissolved into darkness. His body healed and he was once again whole. The pain that had lingered there mere moments before disappeared. But the fear stayed and Castiel glanced around, his eyes straining to see anything, even the blue orb that would lead him to his next nightmare. There was something wrong with the darkness. It seemed to press in heavy against him, weighing him down as if he was a foreign object in the space. Spinning around, Castiel felt something collide against him, knocking him off his feet and spiraling down.

His wings flared open, catching the drift of hot and heavy air as he moved through the darkness. He wasn't alone. There were other things in the darkness with him and he stood out like a beacon of bright light shining into the sky. Where there was total darkness, light cannot survive. He was destined to perish in this angel made Hell.

"Gabriel!" Castiel yelled out to the darkness, knowing that his brother would not hear him. This was something that his brother would do when they were younger. The different reality was deadly and it was far away from Sam and Dean. That was what the archangel needed in order to get his lesson through. Castiel tilted to the side, barely avoiding another creature of the dark. He felt foolish for thinking that a trickster could hold that much power, he should have realized that it was Gabriel when he first touched the sphere of reality that the Winchesters were trapped in.

Something dropped down on top of him, restricting the movement of his wings and causing them to plummet, in what direction, Castiel would never know as the heavy darkness pressed in against him, suffocating him. A sharp blow to his face caused him to groan in pain as he realized that this reality took away many of the powers he relied on. Spinning, Castiel was able to push the creature off him as he barreled in the opposite direction.

He was bright, too bright to survive. They wanted to extinguish him. Impenetrable darkness.

Something grazed his wing and Castiel balled up some grace in his hand and shot it in the direction of the creature. Sharp black teeth and glossy black eyes reflected in the ball of energy that was eliminated almost as fast as he made it. Light could not live here, Gabriel must have known that.

But he had to get back to Dean and Sam. There had to be a way out of here.

A sharp pain in his side alerted him as the presence of dark creatures surrounded him and he folded his wings in, dropping down in order to avoid them, but they outnumbered him, wanting to purge the disease from their reality. Castiel felt trapped, suffocating in a place where he did not belong.

The familiar feeling of grace encompassed his body, protecting him from the evil that was trying to destroy his very essence as he felt himself being ripped from the reality, lights blurring around him as he felt the familiarity of Earth returning to him. Slightly dizzy and panting from his ordeal he focused on the warehouse surrounding them. Dean and Sam standing safe outside a ring of holy fire that contained his once much loved brother. "Hello, Gabriel."

_And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil._

"_Because it comes from heaven, that makes it just._" He would have believed that up until he met Dean Winchester. The infuriating man who made him question everything. Before that human he had no doubt but then he was allowed on Earth, to take a vessel and to experience just what it was like to be a human. To feel love through Jimmy for Claire and Amelia. As much as he didn't want to admit it, it changed him. Castiel could only hope it changed him for the better.

"Castiel, you have begun to worry us."

He turned away from the white walls adorned with a golden inlay to look across the mahogany table. "Maion." Castiel greeted, nodding his head in respect. Worry prickled at the back of his mind, he would not be called here for some small infraction. Maion only met when there were larger situations at play. The angel of self-discipline was one that most angels hoped they would never have to meet with on serious terms.

"You used to be content with watching the events of the world flow by, but now you are part of them. It was you who changed the course by pulling Dean Winchester out of the depths of Hell." The dark haired angel stayed quiet while his counterpart spoke, accepting this small amount of praise. "But, Castiel," he continued on, his hand reaching up to push some of his blond locks behind his ear, "your sympathies are in question."

Furrowing his brow, he thought upon the words Maion spoke, replaying each minute detail of his short span on Earth. "My sympathies?"

"Yes," Maion replied. "Dean is in your charge and you offered to take Sam as well, after all, we know that the Winchesters prefer to stick together. Well, at least until the end." The blond angel sat in one of the seats that surrounded the table, stretching out his hand to offer Castiel the one across from him. Obeying the gesture he sat, his back stiff and his eyes wary. "To put it lightly, you're getting too close to the humans in your charge. You are above them, Castiel. You are an angel of the Lord."

"They respect me." Castiel replied, watching Maion relax in his chair as he folded his hands in his lap.

"Do they? You are not a human and you are not their friend. They are vessels for Lucifer and Michael, when the apocalypse truly commences."

"You mean if the apocalypse begins." Castiel growled, the scripture left for the angels flitting through his mind. It could be avoided. But the new knowledge that Sam and Dean were the vessels of the two archangels surprised him even though it was obvious; he should have known, he should have seen it. The two brothers were an exact parody of Michael and Lucifer, or at least, they would be. Anger flared in his chest, but his face stayed stoic towards Maion.

A strained smile passed across the other angel's face and Castiel knew Maion was questioning the naivety of him. "Of course, brother." He leaned back in his chair, his brown eyes carefully watching Castiel's face for any betray of emotions. "You do not doubt the will of our father, do you, Castiel? Nor the commands that come from your superiors?"

The light from the chandelier reflected off the glossy surface of the table and Castiel cast his gaze down towards them before glancing back at his brother, matching his glare. "Of course not. What comes from Heaven is just."

Maion nodded. "Good, but for now, we're placing you under the command of Uriel. He is to watch your every move and report back to us." Castiel opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by a raised hand from Maion. "We wouldn't want you to be reassigned, or worse." The threat hung in the air between them, passive faces watching each other for any sign of weakness.

Finally Castiel spoke, his low voice echoing around the decorative room. "Understood."

_Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord, my soul to keep._

The blue orb was back, floating merely inches in front of him as the room with Marion slowly disappeared from view. Darkness crawling up the walls and the other angel's form melting into the rapidly fading scene. Watching the orb move about lazily he reached out to grab it, only for it to dart away. "What do you want?" Castiel growled to it angrily, expecting no reply as he turned away from it and began traveling through the darkness in the opposite direction.

'_I'm showing you the truth._' It was a whispered reply, but it seemed to echo around Castiel's head leaving him momentarily dull to the darkness outside of him. A bright flash passed in front of his eyes causing his palms to press into his temples, attempting to relieve the pain and pressure that was building. His senses were blocked, his body felt hot, and pain spread from his mind down his body, extending out to his limbs. His leg weakened and he dropped down to the ground onto his knees.

When the pain abated Castiel stood, his body feeling weaker than before as if poison was flowing through his body and killing him from the inside. Slowly he turned towards the orb, floating where he had left it. "This isn't the truth. This is pain!" Castiel yelled, his voice sinking into the darkness and floating out, muffled by an invisible pressure.

'_Sometimes the truth is painful.' _The orb replied, its voice echoing around Castiel's head before a whirl of wind sent him spiraling out of control.

_And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil._

The ground underneath his feet was damp, the sky a cloudy overcast of gray only marred by the bright red of a kite lazily floating along the breeze. The man who held the handle of the kite had his back towards the angel, but Castiel knew that the man had an immovable smile on his face, greatly enjoying what he was doing. Turning, Castiel observed the small park, the unattended soccer goals placed on both sides of the field and the small playground with a bouncing, purple dinosaur in the corner and swings. It was empty except for him and the man, so unlike the previous times he had seen it when abandoned bodies of his brethren laid splay, wings charring the perpetually wet ground. And then his own, broken and bleeding by Raphael not long after.

The soft fluttering of wings alerted him to another presence in the small area, and he recognized it as the presence of his sister, Anael. They stood there in silence watching the kite pass through the sky together.

"You are very content here." She finally spoke, letting her shoulders relax.

Castiel turned to glance at her, a small smile playing on his lips. Anael was a close brethren to him even though she was his leader. There was some special bond they shared that other angels were wary of. His lips quirked up in a quick smile and he nodded respectfully to her. "It is peaceful and simple here."

She turned towards him, watching his profile in the dim sunlight. "Much like we're supposed to be."

"True." Castiel agreed, turning to look at her and noticing the lines of trouble that worried her face. "What is wrong, Anael?"

"Come, let us go somewhere more private." A small smile replaced the fear and worry and she reached out for Castiel's shoulder, her hand sliding down his arm and entwining with his fingers. Such display of affection was rarely used between angels and he knew something must be troubling her for such an action to be used.

Holding onto her hand, Castiel followed her through the beautiful labyrinth of heaven, passed the personal worlds of each person. His favorites were the ones held by soul mates, creating a mixed world of where two souls combined. It impressed him that they were able to hold on to each other in life and therefore continued that in death. These humans. So impressive from when they first crawled out of the ocean in the form of a fish.

Anael pulled him towards a quiet area of heaven, dodging through the trees and landing near the heart of a forest, blocked from the rest of heaven so their conversation was just between them. She let go of Castiel's hand, their fingers brushing together lightly before parting. Her back was to him and she sighed, placing her hand on the bark of a worn tree. It wasn't often that he had seen Anael like this, the only time he remembered was when he had been returned to heaven from the grips of Alistair.

"Do you ever just think about all this?" Anael raised her other hand and gestured towards the sky.

"What are you talking about, sister?" He asked, taking a step back when she turned to face him.

Her eyes carefully watched Castiel's impassive face before her hand dropped from the tree and returned to her side. "I've been watching a family... they're doing more to help the world than Heaven is at the moment."

"Anael." Castiel warned, realizing what she was saying. Even though they were in a private area he feared that someone might overhear Anael's treacherous words. "These are the orders that are given to us. We must obey."

Anael took a step towards Castiel, closing the distance between them and rested her hand on the side of his face, a sad smile parting her lips. "There's always a way out."

"No." Castiel gasped, pulling his face away from her hand in horror. "How could you even think that?"

"I am tired, Castiel." She replied, letting her hand fall from the air and he knew that his reaction had hurt her. "I came to you as a friend, for you are the only one I have. I may be your leader, but I greatly value your opinion. I cannot tell you this feeling I have inside of me. Something wrong is going on here." He stayed quiet, watching Anael struggle for words that refused to flow freely from her mouth. "There's this family, the Harvelles, but there are other families like them. They fight against the evil that is plaguing Earth. If I was born into that family I could help instead of staying up here and watching uselessly as our superiors give false orders."

A small hiss of disbelief left Castiel's lips as he listened to Anael's words, fear for her disloyalty and the formation of her plan coming to light caused him to bite his lip and glance around to make sure they were in a secure location. "What do you mean?"

"I mean-" Anael took a deep breath of air before she turned away from him, looking through the dense forest, "that perhaps Heaven isn't all there is for me." He was silent as her shoulders heaved with a silent sigh, relieved that she had gotten that confession off her chest.

"Anael, You're not thinking of falling, are you?" Castiel asked, his tone hushed, barely making it passed his sister. The whole incident seemed surreal and he feared for her answer. It was only right for him to dissuade her away from the horrendous decision of ending her life as an angel.

As soon as she turned to face him, he could see the answer to his question in her face, an answer to a question that she had thought hard about. "I am. But Castiel, do not try to change my mind, this is my choice alone."

"I understand." He replied, nodding his head, glancing at the ground as he felt the pain of the future loss, the same pain he had felt when Lucifer and the other angels fell. It was a gaping hole inside of him where the presence of his brethren should be. "I accept your decision."

For the first time since Anael had approached him she seemed to relax, her shoulders relaxing as she stepped towards Castiel once again, taking his hands in hers and letting a small smile cross her lips. "I hope we meet again, Castiel. You are important." Dropping his hands, she stepped back and rested one of her hands against the bark of a tree, glancing up at the leaves with a forlorn look. Returning her gaze to her brother, Anael pursed her lips and uttered one word. "Goodbye."

That one word seemed to send shocks through his body as Anna disappeared from view causing Castiel to scramble to the edge, watching the one light separate into two with a ear-shattering scream as it sped towards the Earth's surface.

'_Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye._'

That one word hurt more than Castiel ever thought possible.

_Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the lord, my soul to keep._

Castiel jerked awake, panting, naked, and cold. His whole body felt on fire from the pain and he struggled to move only to find that his body was trapped against a chair. With a growl he pushed off the chair, pulling his shoulders away from the back of the chair but was unable to move any farther, his whole body convulsing with the pressure forced against him. His arms jerked against the solid metal cuffs attached to the chair that encircled his wrists, trying to break through them.

A door opened, marring the solid white room, wall glowing from an invisible light source, illuminating the sterile room so that there were no shadows cast. Snapping his head up, Castiel eyed the angels that entered the room, the last one rolling a silver tray in with them. Their faces were serious as they moved to stand in front of the chair, clasping their hands in front of them. He hated being at a lower level than the other two, forced to look up into their faces and feel inferior to them.

His chest still heaving with the exertion to escape, Castiel greeted the two angels, his tone rough and anger seething from him. "Sroasha, Nememiah."

"Castiel." Sroasha replied, glancing at his silent counterpart who nodded for him to continue. "I assume you know why you are here." It was at this point Castiel knew he should stay silent, yet he glared at the speaking angel, refusing to let him get any leverage. Sroasha may have been the angel of obedience, but Castiel did not need to guess why he was here.

"Your idea, to warn the Winchesters of the plan. Well, let's just say that we do not think they are ready for that information just yet. Humans are much too weak to comprehend the immense pressure that is put on the outcome of their future." Nememiah finally spoke, crossing her arms across her chest. Her condescending tone irked Castiel especially since she was the angel of just causes. If he had to admit to himself, Castiel thought what he was doing was right. It was just even if the orders of Heaven were ignored. "Pray tell us, Castiel, why?"

Anger flashed across Castiel's face as much as he tried to contain it, but he did not relent his silence. _Procrastination_ would only get him so far in this situation. Sroasha sighed and pulled the tray towards him, his fingers running over the various tools that laid in order. "It does not matter, you cannot lie to us."

"Who do you serve?" Nememiah asked, her eyes boring into Castiel as she awaited his answer.

"I serve God." Castiel growled back, finally speaking as he glared at his brethren.

A great force pushed him back against his chair and he glanced up to see Sroasha mere inches away from him. "You lie, Castiel. Your allegiance lies with the humans."

"Because they are the ones who we are supposed to be protecting." Cold metal was pushed against his throat at that declaration, pushing just hard enough to make him uncomfortable. Castiel tried to squirm away from the object, only to have the chair hinder his progress, he was pinned and at the mercy of the two angels in front of him.

"Who do you serve?" Nememiah asked once again, her fingers gently picking up a tool off the tray. It had a long handle with three blades attached and placed in a circular pattern. She balanced the tool in her hands for a few seconds before she approached the chair, taking her place next to Sroasha.

Panting slightly, Castiel focused on the small space between the angels, staring at the white wall. He had to convince himself that he believed what he was saying, making it the truth. "I serve the just cause." Castiel rasped out, the metal blade rubbing against his throat at each word.

Nememiah shook her head, a small, sad smile forming on her lips as she took the three prong weapon and stabbed it into Castiel's chest, twisting it, so that the blades rotated, digging into his very essence and mangling his grace. His shoulders heaving, he fought the onslaught of pain, forcing himself to stay silent in the wake of the injury and not let a sound pass his lips. "You may think you serve a just cause, but it is not the right cause. There is an order to this. You must obey for your orders come from Heaven and they are not wrong."

"You underestimate their capabilities." Castiel breathed out his mind thinking of the Winchesters, the pain beginning to numb itself in his chest although his grace felt the stinging presence of the three blades.

Sroasha brought the blade away from Castiel's neck slightly, a small chuckle leaving his mouth as he spoke. "Look at him, putting so much faith in the mortals. Such faith is misguided." The angel leaned back, placing the knife back on the tray, making sure it was in it's proper spot before he turned back. "I remember when Anael fell. Our superiors were worried that you would follow in her path, especially since she was your leader and the bond between you two was strong. I honestly wondered why anyone cared so much, but we watched your every move for a while looking for something traitorous. Who knew that it would be over a mere human that you would rebel."

"Come, speak the truth. Who do you serve?" Nememiah asked, grasping the handle of the three bladed object and pushing it in deeper, sinking it into the core of Castiel's grace before she twisted.

An anguished scream left Castiel's lips as he tossed his head back, slamming it into the back of the chair. The pain blacked all his senses, forced out mangled words from him. "Dean Winchester!"

Both of the angels smiled at their success and Nememiah leaned in until her face was a few centimeters away from the pained angel. His eyes were closed and he was focusing on the pain that was coursing through his body, convulsing every muscle that ignited an molten heat throughout his body. "You serve heaven. You do not serve man and you certainly do not serve Dean Winchester."

"Do you understand?" Sroasha asked, and Castiel glanced up at his stoic face, seeing he was waiting for an answer.

"Yes." Castiel growled, but he knew it was a lie. He knew that as much as they tortured him and reeducated him, he would never be able to get rid of the memories he had of Dean; of the way a single human had changed his outlook on the world.

Pain seared through his grace as he felt the three blades move through him, twisting and turning, burying themselves into his essence. He felt as if he was being ripped apart, piece by piece and there was nothing he could do to stop the total destruction of himself. Each small lie, each small twist meant he lost more of himself, replaced by something fake, something that was created by heaven. Something that would control him.

"You lie, Castiel. Do not make this any harder, we do not wish for you to fall in every way imaginable."

But he already knew he was falling, faster than anyone could imagine, and he couldn't do anything to stop it.

_And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil._

Hands flew up to his chest as Castiel spun around, trying to recognize his surroundings while checking for the pain that seemed to have vanished. There were no wounds on his body and his grace seemed fully intact. There was a crowd of people around him but no one seemed to have noticed that he was there, their eyes sliding past him as if he was invisible. He had to know where he was so he began to push through the people, feeling them _jostle_ back against him. Fear began to control his actions, building up inside him as he began to run, pushing people aside and knocking them down. They all seemed to be moving in one direction and Castiel was pushing against them in the opposite way.

As the never ending crowd continued on, he began to get more frantic, searching for something, but not knowing what. It seemed like he had been running for hours, pushing against the tide of people that desperately did not want him to pass when he froze. Turning around him to see the continuous moving bodies who once again seemed to ignore him as if he was invisible.

Slowly the humans faded away, leaving him in a small clearing of what looked to be a park. There were only two people there besides him and the angel slowly approached the two boys that were hanging on a fence and looking at the animals that grazed on the hay.

"So, these are llamas?" The older of the two asked and Castiel instantly recognized those bright green eyes as Dean Winchester's. Reaching out a hand, Castiel touched Dean's shoulder right over where his handprint would be in the future. His touch and his presence went unnoticed by the brothers who seemed content to watch the long neck animals chew the hay with a dull look on their face.

Sam was the first one to jump off the fence glancing at the signs to decide which animal they would see next. "You think they got any _jigglypuffs_ here?" He joked and Dean reached over and ruffled his hair.

"I doubt it. We might have to go to another zoo for that." Dean joked back and followed his brother down a paved pathway to the next animal he wanted to see.

Castiel followed behind, watching this version of Dean he had never seen before. He couldn't help but notice the less stressed lines around Dean's face, the way his smile seemed to light up his whole face and reach his eyes. The already well-worn leather jacket rested loosely on his smaller frame and his clothes were worn but well loved. Sam skipped ahead, chatting about how awesome it was that Dean was letting him skip school for the day and taking him to the zoo. On multiple occasions Sam had even claimed that he was the best brother ever and Castiel could see a spark of pride in Dean's face when his younger brother wasn't looking.

It was beautiful. There wasn't any other word to describe it. But it left a melancholy feeling in Castiel as he realized this happy, loving boy would soon grow to be a rugged, self-loathing man.

He could change that. He _would_ change that.

And as Sam pressed his face up against the underwater glass of the polar bear exhibit, Dean turned and leaned his back against the glass and pulled out his phone, letting an unhappy expression pass across his face. Castiel went up and stood in front of the teenager, watching him compose his face back under a mask for his younger brother.

Leaning forward, Castiel closed his eyes and pressed his lips up against Dean's. It was a chaste kiss, but Castiel memorized the feeling of Dean's soft lips against his, feeling a tingle pass through his body at the small amount of contact. Pulling away, the angel felt the warm breath of Dean ghost across his skin and when he opened his eyes he saw Dean with a small smile on his lips that made Castiel smile as well.

"Come on, Sammy, where to next?" Dean asked, turning to face his brother as Castiel stepped away.

Each scene from Castiel's memory replaying in his head until realization dawned on him. He didn't want to say goodbye; he didn't want to lose Dean Winchester.

'_Come, Castiel. It is time._' The blue orb floated just above his left shoulder.

The scene around him started to rapidly fade, Dean and Sam blurring away as they turned away from the swimming bear. "No. No! Please. Just give me some more time with them." Castiel begged, turning to reach for Dean only to have his hand pass through the boy's body like mist, swirling the colors of his form.

Castiel gasped in despair as everything turned to black, once again, the only light coming from the light blue orb. '_Come, it is time_.' The orb repeated, its voice echoing around his head.

The angel was unable to look away from the spot where Dean used to be, his shoulders quaking with fought emotions. This was not a memory, it was a dream, something he had never seen before and it scared him as well as making him realize things he never knew. "Am I dead?" Castiel whispered, tearing his eyes away from the the spot to watch the orb.

It began to move away from him stopping every so often to see if Castiel had moved yet. Squaring his shoulders, Castiel turned and began to follow the orb. If he was dead, then he would accept his fate. His only lingering thought was Dean Winchester and his green eyes and false smile before he fell into the abyss.

* * *

**A/N**: I'll admit, I got a little emotional writing that last part. Sorry. I guess I'm just a sap today. Haha.

Thanks to **J****ibberingThoughtsOfFle**, **spiderman**, **MadAnnFlint**, **Larkafree**, **erincampbell12**, **NightAngel97**, **rockstarqueen14**, **Perry123**, **Celphius**, **ElianLuna**, **mylia11**, **CeeCeeEss**, **moonflowers. and .rain, ****FireChildSlytherin5**, **harukakatanakakashikun** for commenting!

And your prize is... you get to _defenestrate _a character in Supernatural.

[Defenestrate: Toss someone out a window.]

For me it would be Naomi. Bitch.

Oh, my beta, **DaniBD**, is writing an amazing story. It's called, 'Loki's Playhouse'. You should go read it. Like right now. Shoo.

Love you aaaall.


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